


Murphy's Law

by Nygma42, Oswald_Nygmobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 86,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nygma42/pseuds/Nygma42, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald_Nygmobblepot/pseuds/Oswald_Nygmobblepot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years before the start of Gotham, Oswald is desperately looking for a job. With no friends and no acquaintances, getting a job in Gotham isn't so easy. That is until he meets a woman willing to give him a chance at employment ... And perhaps lead to a relationship he didn't expect, but sorely needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Orientation

Two hundred seventy six. That’s how many interviews he’s had in the past three months. That’s how many times he’d been rejected within the first minute, if he even made it past the door. 

Two hundred and seventy seven … He took a deep breath as he walked under the construction scaffolding covering the sidewalk and stopped in front of the small club. This was two hundred and seventy seven … No matter how many places were open in Gotham …. He was becoming desperate, and running out of options. 

The pink glow of the neon fish bones shone surprisingly bright in the early morning light. The short thin man stood in front of the sign, looking at it with trepidation as he clutched his resume tighter in his trembling hands, creasing the pages in multiple spots.

He took a deep, shaky breath as he walked towards the door, smoothing out his thrift store suit and brushing his long, choppy hair out of his face. He reached the door and pushed but the door didn’t open. He fidgeted more as he looked around the street, feeling even more nervous. He smiled nervously as a man passed by him, giving him an odd look.

When the man had passed Oswald turned back towards the door and knocked. He played with the paper in his hands again before brushing his hair out of his face again.

No one answered the door. A few moments later he raised his hand again to knock, but before his knuckles could hit the wood the second time the door opened outwards so quickly Oswald was smacked in his beak-like nose and sprawled out onto the wet cement.

A bigger man in a suit looked down at him and shook his head. “Door opens outwards kid.” He said, twisting the handle as if to show him it was open.

“R-right … Of course.” Oswald said standing up and brushing the wet dirt from his suit and smiling nervously, his brown teeth making the man cringe slightly.

“What do you want kid?” The man asked.

“I-I-I-“ He stuttered, trying to get the words to come out.

“Spit it out …” The man said leaning heavily on the door frame. Oswald swallowed loudly and held his paper out to him.

“I-I-I’m looking for a job. I was wondering if y-you were hiring?” He asked still holding out his paper. The man looked down at it but didn’t take it from him.

“You’re looking for a job?” The man asked. “Here?” Oswald looked away from the bigger man, trembling even more than he was before.

“Y-y-y-yes sir.” He said, still holding out the paper.

The man looked him up and down before stepping away from the door frame. “Alright …. I’ll get you in to see Fish Mooney … She’s watching some auditions right now … But I’ll tell her you’re here.” He said as Oswald stepped into the small club.

“Th-thank you.” He said holding his resume in both hands again. He stood in the doorway as the bigger man walked over to a table in front of the stage, bending to her ear to whisper something to her.

“Fine, send him in,” Fish responded with a dismissive wave of her expertly manicured hand. She was almost finished with auditions today anyway… There had been no promising talent this morning in any case. It was as if every amateur dancer in Gotham had conspired to waste her time.

Butch waved him in and Oswald came into the room, his resume held even tighter in his trembling hands. 

“H-h-hello … Miss. Mooney.” He said hating how his voice was shaking as badly as he was. “I-I-I was really hoping … well …” 

Fish gave the pathetic, ragged-looking young man before her an incredulous look. She really needed to have a talk with her security staff about screening job applicants. Butch did a fine job neutralizing threats… but identifying time-wasters was, evidently, beyond him. Still… this odd, nervous little man had mustered up the guts to come in here in the first place, even though he was so clearly ill-suited to work here… That alone piqued her curiosity.

“Stop,” she held up a single finger. “Breathe. Then try again.” The way he was stammering was just embarrassing to watch.

Oswald smiled nervously again. “Well I-I-I …” Stammered again. He paused and took a deep breath trying to still his trembling but it just got worse if that had been possible. “Iwaswonderingifyouwerehiring.” He said quickly before he had a chance to stutter again. 

“You and everybody else,” said Fish wryly. Which still didn’t explain what in the world made this bundle of nerves think he’d do well here. She gestured to the paper he was clutching as if for dear life. “Is that your resume?” she asked, holding out her hand.

“Y-Yes ma’am.” He said holding out the crumpled piece of paper which had become partially wet when he’d landed on the cement outside. 

Fish took hold of the paper lightly, as if it might be contaminated with something, her eyes scanning over his mediocre education section and nonexistent experience.  
“Look,” she said, then glanced at his name on the paper. “Oswald…”

Oswald? What had the boy’s parents been thinking? The last name, though… that made her pause. She frowned slightly. “Do you have any work experience at all? What kind of job exactly do you think you’re going to find here?”

Oswald opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t find the words. He looked like a fish caught on land for a moment before he smiled nervously again. “Well … I don’t really but … Please, give me a chance. I-I-I’ll do anything. I’ve applied at almost three hundred other places and this is the longest interview I have ever had. Please …. I’ll do anything. M-m-my mother … She’s going to lose her apartment. We’re going to lose everything we have … We’ll end up on the streets. Please, I-I-I … I’m desperate.” 

She gave him a skeptical look. “So, you’re telling me that working for me is a last resort? I have a reputation for many things, but charity isn’t one of them.” Desperation was hardly a skill or qualification… though it could potentially translate into loyalty. But, looking at Oswald, it was hard to see any real potential in him. And then there was the matter of that last name.

Oswald looked shocked at her assumption, he hadn’t meant to make it sound that way. “No, no no no … I-I-I just heard about this place last night. I didn’t even know about it …. It’s not a last resort it’s ….” He paused and looked at Butch for help who held his hands up in mock surrender, Oswald was on his own. “I know you don’t run a charity but …. I’ll do anything … Anything you ask, just tell me and it’ll be done. No hesitation.” 

Fish Mooney raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a promise to make lightly… But even so, saying you’re willing to do something means nothing if you’re not qualified to do it. This place isn’t for you. You’re going to have to look elsewhere.” She motioned for Butch to show him out. 

“No. No no no no.” He said quickly falling to his knees, his hands taking one of hers. “Please. Please I’ll do anything. Give me anything, let me prove myself I-I-I can be loyal … I’m obedient …. Just get me to do something I can prove to you I can be useful. Please!” 

Fish stared at him for a moment, taken aback by this sudden, unseemly display of groveling. She had thought he was pathetic before, but this… this was just pitiful. This man clearly had no idea of how to present himself to others, as if he’d never been taught to control how others perceived him. Given the last name, she had started to suspect that he had been sent here, and that this was all an act… but was it really possible to fake being this pathetic? Fish pulled her hand away from him. “Stop,” she said firmly. “Get off the floor. You’re embarrassing yourself.” She waited to see whether he would comply.

Oswald let go of her hand when she pulled it away and he stood up, straightening his suit again. “I … My apologies Miss. Mooney I-I-I-” He paused and looked down at the ground. “Thank you for your time.” He said, his voice suddenly less shaky. He brushed his hands on the old material of his suit as he walked away from Mooney towards the exit. 

Fish watched him start to walk away, and then said: “Wait. I might be able to find a use for you after all.” 

Oswald turned back to her, wondering if he’d misunderstood what she’d said. “What?” He asked stunned. 

Fish smirked slightly. She could hardly blame him for being surprised… She had hardly expected it herself. “I said I might have a use for you. Come back tonight at eight for a trial orientation. I’ll decide then if you’re a suitable fit for the job.”

Oswald didn’t know what to say at first before he smiled. “Eight o’clock. Sure … I-I-I I mean Thank you … I won’t let you down. What ever it is … It’ll be done.” He said looking quite happy that she was giving him a chance. “Thank you.” He said as Butch grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him to the door. 

“Come back at Eight, do not be a minute early or late …. Eight o’clock sharp.” He said as Oswald turned to say something Butch shut the door in his face. 

“Butch,” said Fish, once Oswald was gone. “I have a little assignment for you. Find out whether William Cobblepot is any relation to our new acquaintance. If he is… find him and bring him here in time for Oswald’s orientation.”

“Of course Fish.” He said smirking as he left the room. 

o0o0o0o0o

Oswald took a deep breath as he stood in front of the club that seemed to be in full swing. A few people brushed past him and entered the club, ignoring the strange man. He swallowed loudly before he stepped into the club at exactly eight o’clock. As Butch had said not a minute before or after … 

When he entered Butch looked up at him and glanced down at his clock. “You know …” Butch said coming around the front counter and walking towards Oswald. “I didn’t think you’d take me seriously. How long did you stand outside staring at your watch for?” He asked taking in Oswald’s soaked appearance. It was raining outside and it looked like the kid had been out there for a while. 

“F-Fifteen m-minutes.” He said shivering slightly. Butch shook his head. 

“You could have come in.” He said looking over Oswald. “Come on …. Fish is waiting for you downstairs. I’ll take ya.” He said leading him towards the basement. Oswald followed him through the noisy club, a band playing on the stage loudly. He wasn’t sure how anyone could eat dinner and have a conversation around the noise. He followed Butch downstairs into the large open basement, freezing on the spot at what he saw. 

In the middle of the room, a bruised and bloody man was tied to a chair. Fish Mooney stood next to him, idly playing with a knife in her hand. “Right on time, I see,” she said, smirking slightly. “We can add punctuality to your list of possible qualifications, at least.” She sauntered forward, the fabric of her evening gown rustling slightly as she moved, visually out of place with the rest of the scene, but she seemed completely at ease. “You’ll have to forgive my unorthodox methods, Oswald,” she said. “It’s just that, as I came across your name on your resume, I couldn’t help remembering that there was also a William Cobblepot, so I did a little research…” She looked back at Oswald, watching his reaction. “You didn’t mention that your brother worked for Maroni.”

Oswald stared at William, a sneer clear on his face. “We haven’t spoken in years … I wasn’t aware he was even still alive.” He said. “I thought he’d gone the way of Robert and Jason …” He said barely remembering a small news article about his two other brothers, one had died of a drug overdose in a back alley, the other had been murdered in a hotel with some whore. His mother had been heartbroken of course, but always the dutiful son, he had been there for her. 

“I see,” said Fish, the last hint of a smirk fading away to leave only blank neutrality. Of course, she could hardly trust his sincerity just yet. But she would see soon enough. “That might make this a little easier on you, then. Given my clientele, I can’t take on employees with any connection to Maroni. You understand, of course. It’s a matter of loyalty.” She pressed the knife into Oswald’s hand, now while he was still stunned from what he was seeing, and then moved away to the side, knowing that Butch would take him down if he tried anything. “You told me this morning that you could be loyal,” she said softly. “That you would do anything I asked of you. Show me that now, and the job is yours.”

Oswald looked down at the knife that was now heavy in the palm of his hand. “W-” He looked at Mooney as William struggled against his binds, “What do you want me to do?” He asked. 

William stared at the large knife in Oswald's hand. “No. Please … Pengui-” He paused when he realized what he was about to call him. It had been years of calling him that, he almost forgot what his real name was. “Oswald please …. Please …. I … I’m not like Robert and Jason … I’m not like them you remember? When I helped you. I stopped Jason and Tommy-” 

“You helped me because you knew if Jason and Tommy broke my hands I wouldn’t be able to do your homework for you.” He said, his hand clenching on the knife handle. 

“I know … I’m sorry about all that but please, Peng … Oswald. Don’t do this ... “ 

“You got a choice Penguin.” Butch said, finding the nickname rather fitting for the freakish little man. “Kill him, or I’ll kill him and you’re back out on the street.” 

“He hardly sounds like he was much of a brother to you in the past,” Fish said in an off-handed tone, though she was watching Oswald very closely the whole time. “But more importantly… why are you the only one worrying about your mother’s financial situation? William already has a job working for Maroni.” She tilted her head to look down at William who, at the moment, somehow looked even more pathetic than Oswald had before. “Perhaps, in your defense, William, you can give your brother a reason why you haven’t done anything to help your own mother?”

"I ... I ..." William looked up at Oswald. "She was no mother of mine." He said angrily. "She had always been too busy coddling you ... Her perfect freakish boy. Her little baby Penguin!" Oswald’s sneer deepened. "Why should I take care for her when she never cared for me." Oswald’s sneer deepened as William spoke. As soon as the man’s words were out he realized what he'd said and seemed to back off slightly. "I ... I didn't ..." But he knew the deal was done. He'd sealed his own fate. 

Fish walked around to stand behind Oswald, her hand over his which held the knife. Her mouth neared his ear as she whispered to him. 

"Do it ... My little penguin." 

Oswald groaned in frustration and Mooney had to jump back as Oswald lashed out the knife digging into flesh as he thrust it into William’s abdomen. 

William cried out in pain as Oswald pulled the knife back out again and looked down at him. 

“Good,” Fish said encouragingly. The blow was far from fatal, however. Either Oswald still had some remaining qualms about attacking his wayward brother or, far more likely, he had never killed before. “The first strike is the hardest,” she said softly. “Go on now, and finish him.”

Oswald looked at Mooney for a moment before looking down at his brother who was howling in pain, tears streaming down his face. Oswald could feel the warm slickness of blood on his hand where he'd stabbed him and found it oddly ... Pleasant. 

He pressed the tip of the knife against Williams heart, one hand gripping the handle the other flat against the end. 

"You should have been nicer." He said ever so slowly pressing the knife into his chest. It was almost a minute of loud screaming before the hilt hit flesh and the knife was fully embedded into his chest. A few seconds later and William stopped screaming and stilled in his chair.

Oswald let go of the knife, the hilt still sticking out of the man’s chest as he stepped back ... He couldn't believe how good that felt. 

"Hey .." He heard Butch say. "Looks like Penguin enjoyed that a bit too much." He said as Oswald turned on him. "You got a bit of a boner there kid." He said laughing. 

Oswald looked down and was partially surprised. Butch was right, his cock was straining against his pants. Oswald turned slightly so that his jacket hid it. 

Fish smiled in amusement. “I must admit… I hadn’t expected you to enjoy your orientation assignment quite so much.” She was glad now that she had given this strange, snivelling little man a chance to prove himself. As it turned out, he was indeed obedient, and his brother had proved to be no threat to his loyalty at all. He was inexperienced, certainly, and she would need to coach him on how to better present himself. But he had far more potential than she’d thought. Not only would he kill, if she asked him to, but he would also enjoy it. 

"Well ... I-I-I .... He'd bullied me quite brutally growing up ... I ..." He paused wondering if he should tell her. "I always fantasized about what that would be like." He said looking down at the warm blood on his hand. 

“And now you don’t have to fantasize,” Fish said, brushing her fingertips lightly over his cheek, just to see how he would react. He was a repulsive little man, really, but strangely fascinating in his own way.

Oswald sucked in a breath and froze when her fingernails touched his cheek, and his cock twitched in his pants, straining harder against the material. 

A satisfied hint of a smirk settled onto Fish’s face. Oh, he was far too easy to tease. Having him around could prove entertaining as well as useful. She let her fingertips trail down to his chin, before stopping to adjust the collar of his shirt, which had gotten slightly crooked during the stabbing. “Congratulations,” she said. “You’re my new umbrella boy.” 

Butch looked at her confused. Umbrella boy? 

Oswald seemed at a loss for words. He got a job? "Th ... Thank you Miss. Mooney." He said, still a bit stunned and confused by the entire situation. 

“But first,” she said, giving him a quick glance up and down. “You’ll need to go and get cleaned up… I can’t have you walking around covered in blood. There are rooms on the top floor where you can wash up.”

"B-but ... Your customers ... They'll see me and -" 

"You'll be fine." Butch said. "No one here will even pay you any attention let alone tell anyone." He said putting a hand on Oswald's shoulder and leading him towards the door. 

Oswald nervously walked through the club and to the stairs which were located on the other side of the room. True to Butch's word no one even glanced at him. He headed upstairs and to one of the empty rooms. 

He looked down at his pants which were still tented though less so than before and sighed. He had to get a hold of himself. He locked the door and moved into the bathroom to take a cold shower. 

Fish let Butch take care of disposing of the body, and went about the business of greeting customers and overseeing the club as usual. After allowing what she deemed a reasonable amount of time for Oswald to wash off the blood, and possibly wrap his mind around what had just happened, she made her way up the stairs after him. If she was going to be seen with him on a regular basis, something had to be done to make him look at least a little more presentable. And, given the wretched state he’d arrived in, she didn’t trust anyone but herself to do it. 

Oswald wrapped a towel around his waist and moved out of the bathroom, flicking the light off and nearly jumping when he caught sight of Miss. Mooney standing there with a pair of silver scissors.

He looked at his clothes which sat on the bed a few feet behind her and cleared his throat, adjusting the towel so it was more secure around his waist. 

"Miss. Mooney ... I-I-I-" 

“Relax,” said Fish, moderately annoyed. Though she kept encountering him when he had reason to be nervous, she was starting to suspect that Oswald’s stuttering was a chronic problem. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” Though he was without a doubt the scrawniest, most miserable excuse for a man she’d ever laid eyes on. But that was neither here nor there. “If you’re going to be working for me, we’ll need to work on your image. You’ll excuse me for being blunt, but you’re well overdue for a decent haircut.”

She had no idea what bizarre set of circumstances had led to the mess that had wandered through her door, but the poor man looked like someone had tried to shove his head in a garbage disposal. Had the problem been less severe, Fish might have left him in the hands of one of her employees, but this would be well beyond most of their capabilities.

"Y-yes ma'am ... I can g-get it cut tomorrow morning ... There's a barber just down the street from me. I-I-" He was rambling and he knew that but really all he wanted to do was put his clothes back on. 

Fish held up one finger against Oswald’s lips to get him to stop stammering. “Oswald,” she said flatly. “I highly doubt that the average barber would know what to do with this ... mess. Now, sit down and let me try to salvage something out of this wreck." There was really no tactful way to put it.

Oswald looked as if he wanted to say something again but stopped himself. He sat in the desk chair that had been pulled out already, holding his towel with his hand so it wouldn't slip or fall out of place. His face was red with embarrassment. No one had seen him this undressed except his mother.

Even in the high school swim class he'd worn a t shirt. 

Fish circled him briefly, getting a better look at the back and sides, then stood in front of him, reaching forward and tilting his chin upward, looking at the way that his hair fell around his strange, pointed face, closely examining what she had to work with. Finally, she started cutting, with a careful eye for measuring the length in different places as she went. With what she had to work with, there was no way to make his hair come out even, but she could at least make it look as if someone had planned this style on purpose.

Oswald sat nervously, his eyes closed as she cut his hair. His hands clutched his towel as he heard the scissors hiss with each cut. He hated getting his hair cut ever since he was a kid ... When his father Tucker had demanded he get a haircut but wouldn't give him the time to do so around all his chores. His father had dragged him into the garage and cut all of his hair off with a pair of shears so carelessly that Oswald still had scars from where he'd nicked him. 

He hated how much he was teased at school for months after that, being told he looked like he belonged in a concentration camp. 

“You really don’t like this, do you,” Fish observed. It was painfully obvious. “You’re in good hands, though, I assure you.” She carefully scrutinized her work so far in the front, and decided that it was about as presentable as it was going to get, before moving around to the side and starting to trim as well as she could. As she did, she began to notice occasional scars, as if he’d been haphazardly nicked with a blade here and there on the side of his head, the back of his neck… they were very old scars, to judge from their appearance, but once she noticed the first few and began to look for them, she found that they were everywhere. When running a hand through his hair to better judge the length of one section, she thought she might have felt another scar along his scalp. There were probably a few more hidden in this mess that she couldn’t see. Well. That certainly explained a little about this peculiar man. 

“I see you’ve had a few bad haircuts before,” Fish said softly. Already, she had collected some very personal information on him. She had witnessed him commit murder, which she could always bring up again if his loyalty ever wavered. She knew about his impoverished mother, his history of severe bullying at the hands of his brothers, and now this. Overall, the information she’d gathered painted a very pitiful picture of the “Penguin.” This man’s life evidently had nowhere to go but up.

"Well ... I ... Uh ..." He wasn't sure if she wanted an explanation on how he got them. He doubted she cared though and stopped talking as she moved to the back of his hair. 

“That’s alright,” she said dismissively, as she continued to snip away at the mess on his head, gradually bringing some semblance of form out of the chaos. “I don’t need to know the circumstances.” She already got the basic picture. “Whatever happened, you will need to overcome it. Appearance is extremely important in any business. A large part of success is simply being able to influence how others perceive you… And you work for me now. The way that you present yourself should reflect that.” No doubt presentation had been a large part of his trouble finding a job in the first place.

“O-Of course, Miss. Mooney.” He said trying to relax his hands and realizing that his towel had slipped just slightly. It wasn’t revealing anything but it still made him a bit uncomfortable so he fixed the towel quickly. 

Fish smirked slightly as Oswald adjusted his towel, but decided not to comment on it for the moment. She continued carefully cutting his hair, taking her time until, finally, she was satisfied that she had made his hair look as presentable as possible. He was still pretty odd-looking, but there was nothing to be done about that.

“That will do for now,” she said, dusting off some of the hair that had fallen onto Oswald’s pale scrawny shoulders. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Oswald tensed when she touched his shoulders. “N-No …” He stammered. He wanted to go to the mirror to see what his hair looked like. He couldn’t imagine her being able to do anything that resembled normal, not since his mother tried to cut his hair and only succeeded in shaving the sides and turning it into a three layered mess. “Th-thank you Miss. Mooney. That was … M-most generous of you.” He said, his hands shaking again. 

“Think nothing of it,” Fish said dismissively. Hadn’t she already made it clear that this was about image, not generosity? But if he wanted to be grateful, she was inclined to let him. That might be useful later. She continued to brush off his shoulders, then down his back just a little ways, amused by how tense he was. She didn’t think she had ever met anyone quite so easy to toy with. “Why don’t you go take a look in the mirror and see what you think?” she said, finally stepping back, allowing him some space.

Oswald shivered as she ran her hand down his back. “I-I’m sure it looks … I’m sure you did a good job.” He said nodding up at her. 

“Then why are you still so tense, I wonder?” Fish asked with the smallest hint of a smile, setting the scissors down on the desk and stroking a hand down Oswald’s thin, pale chest. “You really need to relax. Learn to project a little confidence, or no one will ever take you seriously.”

“I-I-I …” He stuttered as she ran her hand over his chest. He could feel his cock swelling again as she touched him and he shifted trying to use the towel to hide it. “I’m sorry I …” 

“Hush,” said Fish. “If I want you to apologize for something, I’ll tell you so. Otherwise, don’t waste your breath on it.” Her hand continued to trail lower, past his far too visible rib cage, over his stomach, down to the edge of the towel. “Do you understand?”

Oswald looked down at her hand and swallowed nervously. What was she doing? He opened his mouth to apologize again but stopped himself. “Yes, ma’am.” He said quietly, his voice catching in his throat. 

Fish smirked at his nervousness. By now, he had to have formed some idea of where this might be going, but still he continued to sit there passively, as if frozen in place. She slipped her hand under the towel he’d been so anxious to hold in place, as if it meant nothing, watching to see how he would react.

Oswald shifted slightly on the chair, his hands going to the seat. “Wh- … Don’t …” He whispered, nudging himself away from her hand but having nowhere to go. Not wanting to go against what she was doing … He had after all promised her anything. 

Fish raised an eyebrow. “‘Don’t’?” she repeated, her hand slowly inching further down. “Why? Are you afraid of me, Oswald? After what you’ve already seen and done this evening, is this what frightens you?”

Oswald didn’t say anything for a few moments, closing his eyes trying to compose himself. “I … No … It’s just … I ….” 

“It’s just you what?” asked Fish, tilting her head as she looked down at him, watching just how flustered the poor man was becoming. She wondered whether he actually had anything coherent to say.

Oswald said nothing, not sure of what to say at this point. If he stopped her it could make her angry, or worse, fire him … If she continued …. He kept his eyes closed as her hand remained on his abdomen just below the hem of the towel. He couldn’t fathom why such a beautiful woman would want to touch him in such a way and couldn’t help but wonder what ulterior motive she had for doing this. 

Fish moved her hand further down, coming into contact with his hardening cock, finding it rapidly growing erect at her touch. As she suspected… the Penguin couldn’t have ever had much action. She ran her fingers lightly down the shaft, getting a feel for its length. She was a little surprised to find it respectably in the average range; she’d half expected it to be as pathetic and puny as the rest of him.

Oswald visibly jumped as she touched him there. “I-” He bit his bottom lip and clenched his eyes tighter. No woman had ever touched him before, let alone … there. Sure there had been nights where he’d done this himself but …. This was different. He was tense and nervous yes, but … her fingers felt good. 

Fish smirked at Oswald’s reaction as she wrapped her hand around his cock, her thumb toying lightly with the tip for a moment before she started to stroke slowly, teasingly, up and down the shaft.

Oswald gasped, his mouth falling open as he felt pleasure already building up inside him. If she didn't stop he wouldn't last very long. 

Fish stroked up Oswald’s cock a couple more times, amused by just how close he was so quickly. If she wasn’t careful, though, he could come at any moment.

Oswald looked down at her hand, moving expertly over his shaft and knew he was about to cum. Could feel it building up inside of him about to break at any moment. He felt his breathing pick up slightly, felt his hips move forward slightly. Just a few more strokes and-

Just as she knew Oswald had to be right on the edge, Fish abruptly took her hand away from his cock and straightened, heading briskly for the door, pausing only to pick up her scissors and gesture toward the desk, where a neatly folded pair of pants, button-down shirt, and sweater were waiting. “There’s a change of clothes there for you; yours are hopelessly blood-stained, I’m afraid. Tomorrow, be here early; I’ll have Butch take you to get a new suit.” She turned back to glance down at him and said: “You’re not needed for the rest of the evening. Be sure to change and exit promptly.”

Oswald sat there stunned for a moment as he looked at her walking away, barely able to register what she was saying. He glanced over at the clothes that were on the desk before adjusting his towel around his waist. He knew not to argue … but … What was all that about? 

“Yes, ma’am.” He said picking up the clothing she instructed him to take as she left the room. He looked down at his still swollen cock, suddenly feeling rather frustrated. He glanced towards the bathroom … how promptly was promptly? 

He groaned quietly as he put the pants on, ignoring the fact that there was no underwear and his didn’t seem to be in the pile of his old clothes. He picked up the dress shirt, noticing a small splatter of blood on the collar. He wondered briefly who had been killed in this shirt as he pulled it over his head and buttoned up the shirt the rest of the way, leaving the top button open. He pulled the sweater on over top and left the room. He walked through the club ignoring everything as he walked past. He got a few stares from the angered expression on his face, and he knew he had to calm himself but he found that he couldn’t. 

He exited out onto the street and made his way towards his mother’s apartment … He just wanted to go to bed.


	2. Chapter 2:  No One Likes A Debtor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald is set to start his first day on the job... but nothing is ever easy in Gotham.

Gertrude had been waiting up in the living room, looking at the clock frequently and fretting ever since the sun had gone down. Gotham was a dangerous place at night, and he was almost never out for any length of time after dark. She had the door open before Oswald could get to the door. 

“Oswald, you were out so late,” she said, patting the side of her son’s face, reassuring herself that he was home and safe. “You look upset. Is everything alright? Did something happen?”

He forced a smile onto his face. “No. In fact, everything is great. I got a job today mother.” He said closing the door behind him and locking the three locks. “I work at a nightclub … So I probably won’t be coming home until late. It’s full time, with over time, but I don’t know what my shifts will be like yet.” He said smiling and nodding. 

“That is wonderful,” she said, smiling proudly up at him and wrapping him in a close hug. “I knew you would find something. How could anyone not want such a good boy working for them?” She pulled away enough to look at him again, hands resting on his arms, eyes filled with concern. “Though I do not like the idea of all these late hours with you away from home… Perhaps you should try to find something else. You know how dangerous the streets are in Gotham after dark, and I don’t like to think of my son having to make his way home in the dark at all hours.”

“I’ll be fine mother, it’s not far from here. Just a bit of a walk.” He said with a smile. “I’m going to go to bed though. I have to be there early tomorrow.” 

“Well, as long as you’re careful…” she reached up and smoothed his hair, then asked. “Where did you get this new haircut?” That seemed strange; her Oswald wasn’t even comfortable letting her cut his hair. What had suddenly changed? “ And is this a new sweater?”

“My … My employer thought it would be best if I looked presentable while I was in her club. She gave me the clothes and … Practically had to tie me the chair to cut my hair.” He said feeling uncomfortable even talking about it. “I mean it still looks choppy but ….” He said waving his hand to dismiss it. “I’ll let you cut it next time … I have to stay presentable now that I have a job.” He didn’t want to tell her just how many jobs he’d applied for or how desperate he’d gotten. And he most definitely didn’t want to tell her he had to kill her oldest son to get it. 

“Well, you do look quite handsome,” Gertrude said. “But I don’t think strangers should be cutting your hair. In the future, you should leave it to your mother.” If he was able now to sit down and let her, she could finally do a better job. “And once you know your schedule a little better, I would like to know what your hours are so I won’t worry quite so much.” Though she knew she was bound to worry any time her son was out on his own. In many ways, she would always think of him as her little boy. “Do you need anything before you go to bed? Some tea, perhaps?”

“No thank you mom.” He said with a smile as he hugged her. “I had a long day. I just want to get some sleep.” He said kissing her gently. 

“Alright,” said Gertrude. “You do look like you could use some rest. You have been completely wearing yourself out with all of this job-hunting.” She patted his cheek. “Good night, Oswald.”

\- - - 

 

Oswald put on the blue sweater from the night before over top of a different white dress shirt. He smoothed over his hair, his bangs nearly brushed, the back sticking up oddly. 

He took a deep breath as he took in his appearance in the dirty antique mirror before he left his room and headed towards the front door.

Just before he reached the door, there was a loud banging from the other side, shaking the old door on its hinges, and a voice shouted: “You’re past due on your rent, Kapelput! And don’t go pretending no one’s home!”

At the loud noise, Gertrude came rushing into the room, looking alarmed. “Let me talk to them, Oswald,” she said. “I will tell them you have a job now; you shouldn’t have to deal with them.”

“Mom, no.” He said stopping her before she got to the door. “You remember what happened last time.” He said. 

“Open the damn door!” Came the voice from the other side of the door followed by further banging. 

“I’m coming.” Oswald said, stepping away from his mother and going to the door. He opened it slightly before it was pushed all the way open and Oswald was knocked backwards onto the floor. 

The landlord, a greasy, grubby balding man named Stan shoved his way into the room, followed by two taller, more muscular thugs who looked like they might have seen prison at one point. “You got my money, Kapelput?” he demanded.

Gertrude ignored him at first, rushing to Oswald’s side and fussing over him as she helped him up, before she looked up and answered. “There is no need to go shoving people about like that! We don’t have your money now, but my son has just been hired at a new job yesterday. When he gets paid, then we can pay you.”

“That’s not good enough,” said Stan. “I’ve got expenses to meet too, you know.” One of his goons stepped forward and grabbed Oswald by the front of his shirt, despite Gertrude’s protests. “How do I know you’re not holding out on me, hmm? Maybe you asked that new boss of yours for an advance on your paycheck.”

“I-I-I can’t do that … I just started there yesterday … I-I don’t have the- OOF!” Oswald grunted as the large man punched him in the stomach so hard he doubled over in pain. 

“We get the money now … Or your ugly face gets uglier.” The man said as Oswald struggled to stand up. 

“Gentlemen … I assure you …. You’ll have your money in two weeks time. With interest, I promise.” Oswald said. 

“You owe us four months rent. That’s $3100 …. We’ll make it an even $4000 for interest. Think you can come up with that in two weeks?” The man asked. 

Oswald looked up at him in surprise. “$4000?!” Oswald asked. His first pay cheque he’d be lucky if he got $700 …. He was hoping paying off at least one months rent would be enough for now but $4000? “I-I-I can’t get that much in two weeks! I can pay you last months rent, and pay off every two weeks until we’re caught up! I swear you’ll get your-” Oswald was cut off as a fist connected with his face, blood filling his mouth as he was knocked back again. 

“Stop it!” Gertrude cried. “You leave my son alone!” She grabbed at the man’s arm, trying to stop him from throwing the next punch, but he shoved her aside roughly and she hit the floor. 

“I don’t get it, kid,” said Stan. “First you tell me you can pay me back with interest in two weeks, and now you’re telling me you can’t. Which is it?” 

"I-I-I ... I can pay you back this month." he said looking at his mother who was sprawled on the floor. "... I promise! And I'll work my way up for the rest. I have a-" 

"Yes you already said you had a job." The man said looking around the small cluttered apartment. He motioned towards the two others who started ransacking the apartment looking for anything of value. 

Gertrude looked up, shaking, as the two men rummaged through cupboards and drawers, throwing aside anything that wasn’t of much monetary worth. She winced as one of them pocketed a necklace that had belonged to her mother before her, but she didn’t say anything. At least they weren’t hurting her son anymore. The sooner these awful men finished going through the apartment, the sooner they would leave her and Oswald alone.

Oswald sneered at the men going through their stuff as if going through a thrift store sale ... He stood up and walked towards the man who had pocketed the necklace. 

"Put that back! I said I'd pay you!" He said grabbing the man's arm.

“Stop!” Gertrude protested as the man pulled his arm away and slammed his fist hard into Oswald’s face, knocking him down. She rushed to him as he fell.

Oswald felt the blow connect with his eye, could feel blood running down his face, his vision turning red in one eye as he fell and hit the ground, his head hitting the hard wood so hard he barely registered his mother coming towards him before he lost consciousness. 

\--- 

Oswald groaned as he opened his eyes slowly, his head pounding, his vision spinning. What the hell happened? 

He looked around and groaned again, bringing his hand to his head. Had he been knocked out? 

Oswald gasped and sat up quickly, making his head swim even more. 

"What time is it? How long was I out for?!" He asked looking around and noticing various things were missing, including their kitchen clock. 

“Oswald, please, you should rest,” said Gertrude, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were red from crying. Why had her poor son decided to be so brave? “I am sure your boss will understand if you just explain-”

"No ... I-I-I have to go ... That time is it?" He asked looking around for the living room clock. He gently moved his mothers hand from his shoulder and sat up. 2:45?! 

He was almost two hours late for work on his first shift. Miss. Mooney most certainly would not forgive that. 

"I have to go mother." He said standing up before falling back into the couch again. He held his hand to his head to try to get some kind of grasp on himself, to stop his dizziness. To stop the feeling of throwing up that was building inside his stomach. 

He had to go to work ... He took a deep breath to calm himself and slowly stood. 

“You really shouldn’t,” Gertrude said, worry in her voice as she watched him stand. “You’re in no condition to go to work like this.”

He waved her off as he walked towards the door. "I have to mom. I'll ... I'll see you tonight .... If I still have a job." He muttered the last part under his breath as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Chapter 2 AN: What will Miss. Mooney have to say about all this, I wonder? Also coming up in Chapter 3 is this OC we've been promising you. Going to go ahead and post that up tonight, because we were just too excited about introducing him to wait.))


	3. Chapter 3:  Whatever Can Happen Will Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fish is not amused, and some poor bartender gets stuck giving medical assistance to a Penguin. All in all, just another night at Mooney's.

It should have taken him only forty five minutes to walk there but it took him just over an hour ... It was already after three that he finally arrived and tugged the door open, walking into the small club. 

By the time that Oswald came staggering in, Fish was beyond angry. The extreme lateness itself was a fireable offense, but after the time and effort that she had already gone out of her way to invest in the ungrateful little bastard, there had to be other consequences for wasting her time. She did not just give out employment opportunities out of the goodness of her heart, and could not afford for people to continue under that impression.

“You know, you’re not nearly qualified enough to get away with this kind of behavior,” she said in a dangerously calm voice, as she slowly strode forward from the other end of the club. “I hired you because I thought you had potential. You were punctual, you were respectful… And now I find that you are neither. If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, then you have some nerve showing your scrawny ass here at all.” As she came close enough to get a better look at him, she caught sight of the nasty bruises on his face, his bleeding lip, more blood in his hair… her eyes quickly took inventory, noticing the pained way he stood, how out of breath he was. Fish’s expression grew even more livid. “What happened?” she said furiously.

Oswald knew she would be mad but he wasn't expecting this. "I-I-I'm so sorry Miss. Mooney I ...." He paused as if he wasn't sure what to tell her. "I was on my way here ... I promise I would have been on time but ... There were these m-muggers. They knocked me out. I don't even know what time it is ..." He lied. "Please forgive me Miss. Mooney. I-I-It won't happen again. I swear." 

Fish waved a hand. “Obviously you don’t intend for this to happen again,” she said irritably. Though if he were lying about how it had happened, she suspected that it might. She couldn’t tolerate that. “But they must have been unusually desperate muggers to bother with you.” She stared down at him. “Now tell me, who really did this to you?”

Oswald opened his mouth to say it was muggers again but he knew she knew he was lying. "My mother's landlord ... They came into our apartment as I was leaving, attacked me and my mother and ransacked our apartment." He said his stutter oddly gone when he spoke so angrily about the man who had done this. 

“I see,” Fish said. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” No two-bit landlord was going to damage what belonged to her and get away with it. Moreover, Fish would allow no one to disrupt her business. If it was Oswald’s landlord, she needed to step in now before it happened again. “I’m going to need a name,” she said, putting a steadying hand on Oswald’s shoulder. He looked like he might fall over at any minute. “And where to find him.”

"I-I .... Stan Tompkins .... He's on the first floor of Flounder's Apartments, number 12." He said nervously. "But please ... Don't do anything ... He's a brute ... He's ...." He winced as he felt himself waver slightly, his head swimming. A second later Butch jumped forward and caught him before he fell. 

“Oh, I’m not the one you should be worried for,” Fish said with a wry smile. Teaching brutes a lesson was nothing new to her. Oswald, however, looked like he was going to be useless for the rest of the day. “Butch, put him somewhere out of the way, where he won’t get himself injured any further… Then we’ll go have a little chat with Stan Tompkins.”

“Miss. Mooney, it … That’s not necessary. A waste of your time really. I-I-I can work … I-I promise ... “ He said forcing himself to stand up shakily. 

“Hush,” Fish held up a hand. “This isn’t for your sake. I’ve told you before, I’m not running a charity. But I can’t have some small-time thug on a power trip putting my employees out of commission, interfering with my business, damaging things that belong to me… This is absolutely necessary. Now, you’re going to go rest so you can be useful to me tomorrow.”

“I-I-I … I’m sorry Miss. Mooney …” He said looking away from her. He hated this … His first shift and he was useless. 

Fish ignored Oswald’s apology, and looked over to the bar, where her newest bartender, a young man named Murphy who, so far, she’d found out next to nothing about, had been very quietly setting up for that evening. He was noticeably above average height, with fairly broad shoulders, a lean build, brown hair, and a conventionally handsome face with thoughtful, inquisitive-looking eyes. Throughout the conversation, he’d made a point of looking like he was minding his own business, though he kept glancing surreptitiously over at Oswald.

“You,” she said. “Take care of those cuts, and see that he doesn’t bleed all over the establishment.”

“Yes, Miss. Mooney,” said Murphy, straightening, and looking directly at Oswald for the first time, before adding, “I’m pretty sure he has a concussion… He’ll need to be monitored.”

“Monitor him, then,” said Fish impatiently. “The other bartenders managed without you before last week; if necessary, they’ll get by again without you tonight.”

Murphy looked like he wanted to argue, but decided against it. “Yes, Miss. Mooney,” he said, coming out from behind the bar. There went any chance at earning tips tonight… Still, this Oswald guy was in pretty bad shape, and Murphy doubted anyone else would bother to do as good a job at looking after him.

Oswald looked up at the man who approached. He flinched slightly … The man looked an awful lot like …. Oswald shook his head slightly. No, it couldn’t be …. 

“Hey, easy there,” said Murphy. “No one here’s going to hurt you.” Though frankly, he couldn’t blame the poor guy for being a little timid after the day he’d had. Even in his current state, though, Murphy thought Oswald had very striking eyes … though, on closer inspection, one looked a little more dilated than the other. Yep, definitely concussed. “Do you need a hand walking?” he asked, offering his arm. 

Oswald shook his head but swooned with the action and fell forward, Butch grabbing onto him again. “Just help this mess upstairs before he hurts himself.” Butch said handing Oswald over to him. 

“Come on Butch.” Mooney said. “We haven’t got all day, the club opens in just over an hour … We’ll … make quick work of this.” She said heading towards the door, Butch grabbing her coat for her.

“Got it,” said Murphy, half-carrying a reluctant Oswald toward the stairs. It wasn’t exactly difficult; the guy weighed next to nothing.

Once they got upstairs Oswald pulled away from Murphy and sat down on the bed. “I know you don’t want to stay here … You can go back to work if you want.” He said staring down at the ground. 

Murphy stared at Oswald for a moment, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry about that, okay? I’m staying.” He went to the dresser where he knew Mooney kept one of the first aid kits. 

He’d listed Red Cross First Aid and CPR training in his skill set when he’d interviewed last week, and had consequently been informed of the locations of all first aid kits on the premises… He’d been right in assuming that injuries were not uncommon here. He’d thought it best, though, not to mention just how qualified in that area he was. That would have raised questions about what he was doing applying at a place like this in the first place.

“So I’ll definitely need to clean those cuts first,” he said, applying rubbing alcohol to a gauze pad. “Which may sting a little,” he said apologetically, before starting to gently clean one of the cuts on Oswald’s face.

Oswald didn’t even react as Murphy started cleaning the cuts. Most people would hiss in pain, or try to pull away but Oswald wasn’t a stranger to pain. If he reacted to anything, it was Murphy’s behaviour. 

“Why?” Oswald asked as Murphy cleaned his cuts. 

“Because they might get infected otherwise,” said Murphy, though he knew that probably wasn’t what Oswald meant.

“Don’t play stupid.” Oswald said turning his face from where Murphy was dabbing at his cuts, though not from the pain. It did sting but it didn’t bother him any. “Miss. Mooney didn’t tell you to be nice to me, just to make sure I didn’t bleed on her floor …” 

“Because I’m not in the habit of being an asshole to people,” Murphy said, then frowned and added: “Well, not unless they’ve done something to deserve it, anyway.”

“You’re new to Gotham,” Oswald said. It wasn’t a question so much stated as a fact. “That will change …. Believe me.” 

“Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” said Murphy sarcastically, moving so that Oswald’s face was no longer turned away from him, and continuing to clean his cuts. “You’re not entirely wrong, though. I’ve been here about two weeks.”

“I know … I can tell.” Oswald said not moving his face away from him anymore. The faster he did it the faster he could stop touching his face. “It has nothing to do with positivity or negativity … If you want to survive in this town, kindness is not the way to do it. If you want something you have to take it … If you don’t take it, someone else will take it first … Someone stronger, more powerful.” He said bitterly. “It’s just the way things are here.” 

“Shockingly,” said Murphy. “That doesn’t just apply to Gotham… you’re just a little more obvious about it here.” He was quiet for a long moment, before saying, “Anyway, even if I accept that philosophy as gospel truth, I don’t see what it has to do with this. I can’t just be a dick to everyone all the time; that would be exhausting.”

“Most people here succeed in it …. I don’t see how you’d be an exception.” Oswald said. “It’ll be a matter of time … Believe me. Someone will get in your way, or push your buttons … Gotham changes even the best of people …. And no offence, you don’t exactly look like a good man.” 

Murphy actually laughed at that. “Again,” he said. “You’re not entirely wrong.” He finished cleaning the cuts on Oswald’s face, then went around to clean the one on the back of his head. “On the bright side, none of these will be needing stitches.”

Oswald rolled his eyes at Murphy’s remark … Like that really mattered. Stitches, scars, it was something he’d grown used to. He was just grateful that his head injury was bleeding externally and not internally. 

Once Murphy had finished cleaning any visible cuts, he said briskly: “So, I think an ice pack for your head would be a good idea, to reduce the swelling… Any other injuries I should know about?”

“No.” Oswald said turning to lay down on the bed, and wincing at the movement. He hoped Murphy wasn’t looking at him, he would know something else was wrong. Oswald looked up at him and refrained from groaning when he saw the man was still looking at him. 

“Ribs?” Murphy guessed, having watched closely as Oswald moved; it was already clear that he was the type of patient to deny pain whenever possible and brush off offers of assistance. Murphy really needed to stop thinking in words like ‘patient’; Oswald was just a stubborn, difficult man.

"No ..." Oswald denied, though he had no doubt his ribs were, at the best, bruised. 

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Right,” he said skeptically. “Let me take a look.”

"Go away." Oswald said his head swimming as he laid back on the pillow. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” said Murphy, sitting down on the side of the bed. “It won’t take long. Just hold still, and I’ll figure out the damage.”

"Just go ... Away." Oswald said moving away from him on the bed. 

“Will you just let me see if your ribs are cracked or not?” asked Murphy, annoyed. If he’d had a few people helping him, it would be one thing, but on his own, if Oswald was going to put up a struggle over this, he might end up injuring himself worse before Murphy could do anything about it. He tugged at the bottom of Oswald’s shirt, testing to see whether he would let him help.

Oswald saw the man’s hands go for his shirt, felt it tug upwards and panic set in. Oswald tried to pull away quickly, Murphy grabbing onto him and pulling him back. 

"Let me go!" Oswald practically yelled. 

Oswald's eyes widened in fear and before he thought to do anything else he lashed out, punching Murphy hard in the face. Oswald backed up again, trying to get away from Murphy and with a loud thud hit the ground beside the bed. 

“Ow, goddamn…” For a guy his size, Oswald could throw a hell of a punch when he wanted to. Murphy looked down at Oswald where he’d fallen onto the floor… which was exactly what he’d been trying to keep from happening by grabbing him, but apparently Oswald had registered that as a threat. So he kept his distance now, not making any move toward him. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Oswald sat up, leaning against the bed and tried to block out Murphy's presence in general. 

"Go away ... Please just go away." He said sounding more frightened than angry. 

At the look of fear in Oswald’s eyes, Murphy immediately backed away, getting off of the bed on the opposite side from Oswald. Clearly there was something else going on that he hadn’t realized. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just was trying to help, and then I didn’t want you to fall off, and… Look, I’ll just go get you a couple of ice packs, and then I won’t bother you, okay?” He headed for the door, upset.

It wasn’t like there were bloody broken ribs sticking out visibly all over the place. At most, he probably had a fracture somewhere. In which case, the best thing to do was wrap up the area to make sure it didn’t get jarred out of place, but he didn’t think Oswald would let him do that at this point. Just as likely, though, they were just bruised, in which case a few ice packs would help. Either way, it didn’t seem too dire.

Oswald heard the door close and looked up over the bed to see that Murphy had indeed left. He groaned at himself ... How stupid ... How cowardly ... The man hadn't even done anything and he flailed and bolted like a cornered cat .... He sat down on the bed and laid back against the pillow again, his hand against his ribs, listening to music starting up downstairs. It seems the club was starting to open, had it already been an hour? 

Murphy returned shortly with three ice packs, a glass of water, and a bottle of aspirin. He set everything down on the bedside table, making a point of leaving a physical distance between himself and Oswald. “I’ll just leave it to you what to do with these,” he said. Then he retreated to a chair on the opposite side of the room.

Oswald stared at Murphy as he sat down. He felt bad for punching him when the man hadn't really done anything but it wasn't in his nature to apologize ... Not to someone who wasn't leagues above him in both strength and power anyway, and even then it was his begging for forgiveness not apologizing. 

The man didn't seem to be bleeding from anywhere at least, though his knuckles still hurt from the punch so it had to have hurt. 

Murphy was uncertain how to respond to the intensity of Oswald’s stare. At least he didn’t seem frightened anymore; whatever momentary panic had overtaken him had passed. He tried to ignore Oswald’s gaze, but couldn’t help wondering what was going on in his head right now. “What?” he asked finally. “Did I grow an extra head?”

Oswald didn't say anything, just laid back on the pillow ignoring the things Murphy had brought him and stared up at the ceiling. 

"Why are you still here?" 

“You’re still concussed, remember?” said Murphy. “Miss. Mooney said to monitor you. And I’m not about to risk pissing off Miss. Mooney, no matter how good a punch you throw.”

Oswald scoffed. "Yeah ... That came with practice." He said rolling his eyes. "You can go back to work you don't need to sit here watching me ... Go earn your tips." 

“Believe me, I’d love to,” Murphy sighed. Oswald had no idea how much. “But you seem to have missed the part about pissing off Miss. Mooney. If me being here bothers you, then just ignore me, and unless you need something, I’ll do the same.”

"Fine." Oswald said turning onto his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Chapter 3 AN: Perhaps not the best first impression... We'll see how Oswald and this Murphy individual get along later. From this point, chapter releases will be more spaced out to give us some time to catch up. As always, thanks for reading!))


	4. A change of heart?

It was hours later that Oswald finally arrived home, able to stand without feeling like he was going to be sick. He still felt dizzy but it was bearable.

He punched the pass code into the security pad outside and pushed the door. It didn't open. He sighed as he tried it seven more times, the door sticking each time. 

Oswald groaned and kicked the wall before attempting two more times. A few minutes later the old man from down the hall walked by, wandering the halls again. He tapped on the glass and the old man came and opened the door for him. 

"Door stickin again huh?" The old man asked as Oswald came in. 

"Yes. Thank you for letting me in, Mr. Williams." Oswald said kindly. 

"Of course dear boy." The man said patting Oswald on the head as he had done since Oswald was a child. It didn't matter that Oswald was a few inches taller than the hunched man now, he still did it anyway. "You're getting home late. It's nigh two in the morning." He said glancing at his old pocket watch. 

"Yes, I'm just getting off work. I'm still adjusting to the hours, I should head up and get some sleep. I have to be there again at noon tomorrow." He said waving good bye to Mr. Williams. 

"You get a good rest my boy ..." 

"You too. And don't forget to take your meds. You promised me, remember?" He said smiling as the old man groaned and waved him off. He shook his head as he walked down the hall towards the stairway and paused when he saw Stan Tomkins coming down the hall. 

"Mr. Tompkins I-" 

“Ah, Mr. Cobblepot,” said Stan, a slight tremor in his voice. “Just the man I wanted to see.” As he approached, it became apparent that he was paler and sweatier than usual. “Look, I uh… just wanted to apologize for this morning’s uh… misunderstanding.”

Oswald paused and stared at Stan. Since when was he Mr. Cobblepot? 

"Um ...." Oswald looked at him confused. 

“You know it wasn’t personal, right? I’m just trying to run a business here, and some of these bums living here would never pay up if I didn’t lean on them a little,” he said with a nervous laugh. “But Miss. Mooney came by and cleared everything up, so we can put all that behind us, hmm? Of course, if you’ve got this month covered, you don’t have to worry about the last four. Just leave the past in the past, right?”

Oswald stared at him, his eyebrow raised. Miss. Mooney must have done something ... If Oswald wasn't mistaken Stan was now afraid of him. He wondered just how afraid ... 

"Actually ... I don't have this month’s rent either." He said testing the waters. 

“Oh,” Stan stammered. “Well, uh… of course you don’t have it yet,” he said with what was meant to be an understanding smile. “You just started out at your new job, probably have other expenses to catch up on, got your old lady to take care of, I know how it is. So let’s just… see how this month goes, alright? Oh, and I almost forgot…” he reached into his shirt pocket and produced Gertrude’s necklace, holding it out to Oswald. “My boys got a little carried away… reliable muscle’s hard to find in this city; doesn’t always come with brains attached, you know? Anyway, we’re both reasonable men. There’s no hard feelings, right?”

Oswald regarded him as he took the necklace back. 

"Everything else was given back as well?" Oswald asked knowing that other things were taken other than the necklace. 

Stan’s face went almost white. “Y-yes, of course,” he stammered. “I had everything else I could find brought back this evening while you were away… But if you notice anything else missing, let me know, and I’ll question the boys about it and make sure it gets brought back.”

Oswald smiled. "Great." He said walking past Stan and towards the stairs. He knew Stan was hating this but whatever Mooney had done, it was effective. Just as he reached the stairs he stopped and turned towards his landlord. 

"Oh and Stan." He said knowing the man hated to be called by his first name by his tenants. "The security lock is still broken ... I believe I brought that to your attention ... What? Twelve ... Thirteen times in the past three months?" 

“I’ll get it taken care of by the end of this week,” said Stan quickly. “Thank you for uh… reminding me again.”

Oswald moved up the stairs, grinning as he played with the necklace in his pocket. 

Things were looking up ... And he had Miss. Mooney to thank for that. He reached the door and knocked. He hated how his mom never trusted him enough to to give him a key. 

"Mom?" He asked knocking again hearing nothing from inside. A few moment later he sighed in annoyance and knocked again. "Mother let me in!" 

A few moments later, there were footsteps inside, and the door opened. “I’m so sorry, my poor Oswald,” said Gertrude, letting him in. “I must have dozed off… How long were you waiting out there?”

"Not long." He said pulling out the necklace from his pocket. "I believe this belonged to Grandma Esther." 

Gertrude gasped. This morning, she had been so sure she would never see her mother’s necklace again. “Oh Oswald, how did you get this back?” she asked, her eyes tearing up. “And how did you get those horrible men to bring back the rest of our things? You didn’t do anything dangerous, did you?”

"Of course not." Oswald said closing the door behind him. "They probably just ... Had a change of heart is all. We won't have to worry about them anymore." 

Gertrude was not so sure that those brutes would just ‘have a change of heart’ all on their own like that. Perhaps her Oswald wouldn’t lie to her, but he must have done something… Still, looking at him now, he did not seem any more badly injured than he had been this morning. So whatever it was, perhaps it really wasn’t so dangerous. Her son was so very clever, after all. 

“What matters most is that you are safe,” said Gertrude, patting the side of his face gently, knowing that he was still hurt. “The rest are only things.” She could stand to lose anything else, but not her precious son. That would be unbearable. “You are such a good boy…” Then she shook her head. “You must be exhausted after the day you have had… I should let you get to bed.”

Oswald kissed his mother gently. "I really should get some sleep. I have work again tomorrow. I have to get some clothes since I was unable to today." He said heading towards his room.


	5. Harassment in the Workplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Miss. Mooney gets bored, nothing good can come of it.

Chapter 5: Harassment in the Workplace

Oswald sat at the table near by as Mooney watched auditions up on stage. Four hours now he’d done nothing but sit here and occasionally fill her glass. He would never complain, but he was growing bored. 

Fish waved a hand. “No,” she said, before the band currently auditioning could even make it to the chorus. “That won’t do at all. Next.” With some encouragement from Butch, the group left, clearing the stage for the next audition. Fish tapped the side of her once again empty glass, though the bottle that Oswald had been pouring out of was now also empty. Watching from the bar, Murphy noticed and brought out another one.

Oswald said nothing to Murphy as he took the bottle from him. He opened it and filled her glass, leaving the bottle on the table where the old one had been. He took the empty one and handed it to Murphy before returning to his seat once more. 

Murphy took the empty bottle and, as Oswald turned to head back to his seat, said quietly: “Looking sharp today. That look works for you.” And it was true; Oswald cleaned up really well. The new suit made a drastic difference. The design itself was simple and classic, but it fit him well. Aside from the still-healing cuts and bruises, Murphy thought Oswald looked pretty damn handsome… which was a train of thought that he probably shouldn’t pursue any further.

“Thanks.” Oswald muttered as he sat down, drumming his fingers on the table. 

“Are you bored Oswald?” Mooney asked, looking over her shoulder. Her tone made it clear that she really didn’t care. 

“N-No ma’am … Of course not.” He said, stilling his fingers on the table. 

“Are you sure?” said Fish, her tone mildly annoyed. “Because I could always come up with something for you to do.”

“I’ll do anything you request Miss. Mooney.” Oswald said obediently, making a few of the waiters snicker. 

Murphy felt a touch of irritation at the waiters for their reaction. Sure, Oswald was the one being singled out right now, but it wasn’t as if any of them would have defied Fish Mooney either.

“Oh good,” said Fish lightly. “Because I could really use a foot massage right now.” She watched his expression to see if he was uncomfortable yet. She needed to make sure that, just because she’d put down some petty thug on his behalf yesterday, he didn’t start to forget his place.

Oswald stood as the waiters started laughing a bit more. He moved beside her table as she slipped her shoe off. He sat cross legged on the floor, ignoring the pain in his ribs as he started to massage her foot, something he was at least good at from the amount of times he’d done it for his mother. 

“Hmm, You’re actually pretty good at this, my little penguin,” Fish smirked down at him. “A little more to the left, though.”

Murphy looked away in second-hand embarrassment for Oswald, going about his business checking the availability of their best-selling alcohols, and preparing other ingredients for the club’s more popular drinks, making a point of not staring… but constantly glancing back over at the scene despite his best efforts.

Oswald looked up at her and smiled softly as he moved his thumbs over as she instructed, this honestly wasn’t bothering him at all, so long as it was pleasing her. 

Fish looked down at him curiously, trying to discern what was behind his expression. He didn’t seem at all humiliated by this, despite performing such a submissive action in the middle of the club, on the floor, in front of most of the other employees. Not only that, but she’d also called him by his apparently hated nickname in public, and it still didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest… Why? He wasn’t that confident a person by any stretch of the imagination, nor was he stupid enough to be unaware of what the others thought, so why was he unfazed by this? Could he really be that grateful to her for intimidating his landlord yesterday? Surely not, when he knew it was a simple matter of power and image for her. No one was that pathetic.

“What are you thinking, little penguin, I wonder?” she asked quietly.

Oswald looked up at her again and shrugged. “I’m just happy I can be of assistance.” He said sincerely. He could hear the other’s still snickering at him and he ignored it easily. 

Murphy looked up from the bar, surprised by both Oswald’s answer and the apparent sincerity in his tone. He… could kind of respect that, actually. Though now he couldn’t help wondering if maybe Oswald had a thing for Miss. Mooney… That thought bothered him for some reason.

Fish smiled slightly. She supposed the strange little man could be faking his response in an attempt to curry favor… she’d dealt with her share of kiss-asses before. For all their snickering, she could have gotten any one of the waiters to do the exact same thing if she’d felt like it. But with all his stammering and nervousness before, she just didn’t credit him as that good an actor. Apparently, he really was that pathetic. It was a little disgusting, really… though she somewhat enjoyed the idea of having such a loyal little pet. For awhile, she let him continue uninterrupted. He really was rather good at this, and the custom heels she’d been walking around in all day were demanding, to say the least.

Nonetheless, this really wouldn’t work as a power-play to remind him of his place if he genuinely didn’t mind. But she could think of something that had made him very uncomfortable before… and would probably make him even more uncomfortable here. While Oswald diligently rubbed one foot, she slipped the other one between his legs… he’d made it far too easy sitting cross-legged on the floor like that, and ran it lightly along his inner thigh, watching his face for a reaction.

Oswald took a slight intake of breath as he felt her foot snake up his thigh. He knew what she was doing, and knew it was for her own benefit to see how he would react. He kept his expression neutral as possible, the only change in his face was the sudden clench of his teeth though that was hardly visible with how he was now focusing on her foot. 

Fish smirked. Oh, he was clearly trying very hard not to react, but she’d heard that little intake of breath, and she thought she saw his teeth clench, but she wasn’t quite sure, the way that his face was turned down, pointedly focusing on rubbing her foot. She continued to snake her other foot up his thigh, nearing his groin.

Oswald continued focusing on his work as a few of the waiters caught notice of what was going on. A light blush came to his cheeks as a few of them snickered once again, one of them even going so far as to lean against the bar to watch. 

Murphy stopped in the middle of cutting up limes, stunned into staring. What the hell was she… She couldn’t just do that! Well, she could, she was Fish Mooney, she could do pretty much whatever she wanted, but… but… Oswald was clearly uncomfortable with it. Of course he was. Who wouldn’t be? He didn’t even like people touching him in the first place; hell, he’d panicked and clocked Murphy in the face when he’d just tried to examine his ribs, for Christ’s sake! It was completely wrong for her to just… harass him like this in front of everybody. And everybody was just snickering like that. What a bunch of utter pricks. He was completely furious when one of the waiters decided to just lean on the bar--the bar that Murphy had just finished wiping down-- to watch like it was some kind of show, completely giving up all pretense of working.

Murphy cleared his throat. “Are you on break?” he asked the waiter in a low, dangerous voice.

The waiter turned to make some retort, but something about the look on Murphy’s face made him reconsider it. “Um, no,” he said.

“Then quit loitering around my bar and go do your job,” Murphy said quietly. The waiter cleared off. Murphy then realized that he was staring just like everybody else, and went back to chopping limes, though far more angrily than before.

“What’s the matter, penguin?” Fish asked softly, her foot now running teasingly against his cock through the fabric of his pants. “Is something distracting you?”

Oswald remembered the last time she’d done this, just two days previous … Made him think as if she wanted to do this but just at the last moment backed away as if it were just a game. His hands faltered and shook just slightly. 

“Please stop.” He whispered, barely audible over the noise. “I … I haven’t done anything wrong.” He said, though despite his quiet plead to stop he could feel his cock swelling in his pants as her foot gently ran along it through the thick fabric. He hated how easily she did that to him … Hated how easily his body betrayed him. It felt good he had to admit but … She was just playing with him. Nothing more. 

Fish continued to brush her foot against him, as she looked down at him with combined disgust and satisfaction. He really was a pathetic little creature. It hadn’t taken much at all to make him go from trying to act like a man with some semblance of dignity to outright pleading with her to stop humiliating him. Yet there was a certain innocence to his reasoning as well that she couldn’t help but pity. “Haven’t done anything wrong?” Fish repeated, not quite as quietly as Oswald had said it. “My simple, innocent little penguin, whoever said you did? I thought you were just glad to be of service.”

“I-I …” He stopped talking as his hands moved back to her foot, focusing on what he was doing with his hands rather than what she was doing with her other foot. “I’m sorry I …” He didn’t know what she wanted. He didn’t know how to react, or what to say. He just wished she would stop playing with him. 

Murphy continued chopping limes on the cutting board, trying not to listen, not able to hear all that was said anyway, though he caught enough of the words and of Oswald’s tormented expression that he was completely livid about the whole thing. His hand gripped the knife as if he were strangling it, and chopped as forcefully as if he had a personal vendetta against citrus fruits. Why the hell was he this angry about it, though? Yeah, he felt bad for Oswald and what she was putting him through, and sure he felt a little more protective toward the man than he could really explain, but… why the hell did he feel, just ever so slightly, jealous? He reminded himself that Oswald didn’t even like him. For all he knew, the man could be 100% straight anyway. There was absolutely no reason for this nonsense. Was he really lonely enough to be attracted to a guy who’d punched him in the face the first time they were alone together? He knew he’d lost control of his life pretty badly, but this was just ridiculous.

Still. All that aside, what Fish was doing was cruel and Murphy hated it.

Fish continued toying with him mercilessly. She leaned forward slightly and whispered so that only Oswald could hear: “You didn’t seem to mind the little taste you got the other night. But now you’re all protests.” 

Oswald still focused on his hands, possibly putting a bit more pressure than was necessary. “Forgive me, Miss. Mooney. But I am not a slow learner.” He said just as quietly so that only she could hear. 

Fish didn’t respond to the additional pressure. She raised an eyebrow, however, at his comment. “No, evidently not,” she said, mildly amused. She leaned back in her chair again, still not relenting in teasing him. “Still,” she said, more clearly, so that her voice carried. “I left you alone with Murphy for one night, and suddenly you’re all hesitant… What happened last night, I wonder?”

Murphy suddenly looked up, stopping what he was doing. “What… Now, Miss. Mooney,” he said, trying to play it off as if this didn’t bother him. “If you really wanted to know that, you should have stayed around to watch.”

Oswald’s eyes widened, his face turning even redder right down to his neck and up to his large ears. He looked at Murphy, anger clear on his face as the waiters all started laughing. 

Murphy felt terrible at the look of anger and embarrassment on Oswald’s face. He hadn’t meant to add to Oswald’s humiliation, just to show him how to act like it didn’t matter. If anything, he’d intended to draw their attention away from Oswald a little and onto himself… but Oswald clearly didn’t see it that way. 

He tried to pretend he didn’t notice that either, and rolled his eyes at the waiters. “Oh, get your minds out of the gutter,” he said. “If you must know, we had a boxing match. Oswald won. He actually has a really mean right hook.”

“Really now?” Mooney asked looking down at Oswald, her foot moving away from the bulge in his pants. “Murphy, come here.” She said looking down at Oswald with a smirk on her face. 

Murphy paled slightly. “Yes ma’am,” he said, setting down the knife on the cutting board and reluctantly coming out from behind the bar. He’d said something he shouldn’t have, that much was clear, but he hadn’t been dealing with Miss. Mooney long enough to be sure how. Was he in trouble for supposedly getting into a boxing match with a guy he was supposed to be taking care of, or had he somehow gotten Oswald in trouble instead? Since he didn’t know, he wasn’t sure how to fix it.

“Stand there next to Oswald.” She instructed, lazily gesturing to the man who had moved onto his knees in front of her. 

“You… do know I was joking, right?” said Murphy in a low voice, but he did as he was told nonetheless, standing next to Oswald.

“Joking or not, I doubt you got that bruise from nowhere …” She said observing his face. “Oswald … Tell me the truth … Did you punch Murphy here?” 

“I-I-I …” Oswald stuttered looking up at Mooney. “I … Yes … I did Ma’am but-” 

“But, nothing ….” Mooney interrupted him. “You hit one of my employees … Now you must suffer the consequences.” Oswald looked up at her with wide fearful eyes, wondering just what she would do. Mooney leaned back in her chair and smiled down at him. “I like you on your knees, my little penguin.” She said with a smirk. “I want you to beg Murphy for forgiveness.” 

Oswald looked at her confused. Beg for forgiveness? From him? Oswald looked up at Murphy who towered over him even when he was standing, a look of disgust on his face. 

“Miss. Mooney,” said Murphy, not wanting to look at Oswald right now. “That’s really not necessary; I’m pretty sure it was an accident. He was concussed at the time, he didn’t know what he was doing.”

“That may be so …. But excuses don’t matter. A lesson must be learned here.” She said pressing her finger against the table as if to accentuate her point. “Now …. Be a good little penguin, and beg for forgiveness.” 

Oswald turned towards Murphy, a sneer clear on his face, nearly everyone in the club watching them at this point. 

“I apologize for punching you Mr. Fletcher.” Oswald said, clearly not happy about the situation. “I promise it will never happen again.” 

“Oh now Pengy … I don’t think you really mean that.” Mooney said leaning forward, and examining Oswald. “I think you can do better than that …” 

Oswald looked at her, not sure of what else she wanted him to do. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you boy?” Mooney asked. “Kiss his shoes and beg for his forgiveness.” She said making Oswald go even redder in embarrassment. Oswald wasn’t even sure what he did to get into this predicament. He doubted he could even quit this job, she’d probably have Murphy or someone take him out back and kill him if he did. 

Murphy looked over at Miss. Mooney, wanting to protest, but kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t about him anyway, it was about Fish Mooney’s authority. He doubted there was anything he could say to help Oswald at this point, and opening his stupid mouth was what had escalated this in the first place. At least Murphy had tried to keep his shoes clean for work… though that wouldn’t help Oswald’s pride at all.

He gave Oswald an apologetic look, trying to silently communicate that he hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Oswald looked around at everybody watching. Didn’t everyone have work to be done? Oswald didn’t bother looking up at Murphy as he leaned forward on his hands and knees, feeling the heat in his face as he kissed Murphy’s shoe. 

“Well?” Mooney asked. 

“Please forgive me, Mr. Fletcher.” Oswald said kissing his shoe again. “Please accept my most heartfelt, sincere, apology.” 

Murphy glanced over at Miss. Mooney, hoping that was good enough for her, that this farce was done with. “It’s… it’s okay,” he said. He doubted that there was any actual ‘sincerity’ in Oswald’s apology, nor should there be. Murphy just felt guilty and embarrassed on Oswald’s behalf. And he doubted that Oswald would ever accept any apology from him for causing this incident in the first place.

“Good.” Mooney said. “Now … After that disgusting display I don’t want to see either one of you … Oswald, since Murphy was so kind enough to take care of you when you were injured … Why don’t you take Murphy upstairs and … take “care” of him …” She said clearly using care as an innuendo. 

Oswald’s eyes widened. “After all.” Mooney continued. “You still owe him for that punch. Might as well give him a bit of fun, hmm? I’ll get a review from Murphy in the morning.” She said waving on the next audition. 

Murphy panicked internally. If Oswald didn’t already hate him now… “Um, Miss. Mooney,” Murphy said quietly. “That’s… very generous, but… I was joking about that too. I’m not actually gay.” Technically, he was bisexual… and maybe happened to lean very heavily toward men, but that was none of Miss. Mooney’s damn business.

“Uh-huh …. I’ve seen you eyeing up Oswald all night, watching him sit at his table, staring at his bottom while he pours my drinks, you think I don’t notice …. I see everything.” She said. “Now go … That’s an order. Before I fire both of you lazy good for nothing miscreants.” 

Oswald slowly stood, shaking on his feet slightly as he nodded to Miss. Mooney. Would Murphy actually do that? Demand that of him? Oswald wasn’t at liberty to say no … If he didn’t … Oswald walked up the stairs and to the bedroom they were in the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked Chapter 5. Looks like Murphy didn't help matters by opening his mouth. Will he really take advantage of poor Oswald because Miss. Mooney commands it? And what will be the consequences either way? Stay tuned, and we hope to hear your thoughts in the meantime.


	6. Open Up Now

Chapter 6 

Murphy managed to stammer out a reluctant “Yes, ma’am,” blushing furiously, before heading up the stairs after Oswald. If she was going to complain that they were lazy, why wouldn’t she just let them get back to doing their jobs? This was the second night in a row that Miss. Mooney had ordered Murphy away from bartending… And he really desperately needed those tips. On top of that, he didn’t put it past Mooney to dock both their wages for it. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining this next time his ID guy came to collect on the fake ID he was still paying off. And now Oswald probably hated him more than ever; hell, he might even think that Murphy had somehow planned this demented scenario. Once he arrived in the bedroom, he closed the door and said quietly:

“Look, you don’t actually have to do this, okay? We can tell her you did if she asks, but… I just want to make it clear that’s not actually going to happen.”

Oswald looked at him. “You can’t lie to Miss. Mooney, she’d fire us both … That is if we’re lucky, that’s all she’d do.” He said numbly stepping forward and reaching out for Murphy’s belt. He pulled it loose and went for the button of his pants. 

Murphy’s eyes widened. “Wait,” he said, grabbing both of Oswald’s hands and attempting to pry them away from his pants. “Just… wait. Stop. You don’t want to do this.” He stared back into Oswald’s eyes. “She won’t find out, okay? No one has to know. I know you don’t really want this, so just… just stop.”

Oswald looked down at the ground, his hands dropping to his sides. “Fine …” He said stepping back from him. “I don’t know why she would think you’d want me anyway.” He said sitting down on the bed. 

Murphy stared at him in confusion. “Wait… what? Are you … disappointed?” That made no sense at all. Oswald very clearly didn’t want Murphy touching him, so where the hell was this coming from?

“It’s hard to be disappointed when you’re always expecting the worst. So no … Mr. Fletcher, I am not disappointed.” He said though he was clearly lying. Oswald pushed himself back so he was sitting in the middle of the bed, his knees loosely hugged to his chest. 

Murphy looked back at Oswald, trying to puzzle through a maze of mixed signals and figure out why this of all things was upsetting him. “Wait,” said Murphy, comprehension dawning. “You think you’re undesirable? Is that it?”

Oswald smirked bitterly. “Of course I’m undesirable … Who in their right mind would even want to touch me? Talk about a face only a mother could love.” He said bitterly, the words coming out of his mouth not his own, but the bullies from school. 

Murphy actually burst out laughing. He knew he shouldn’t, that Oswald was serious, and if he actually felt that way it was no laughing matter, but… it just seemed so ridiculous to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, making himself stop. “But that’s just complete bullshit.” He looked back at Oswald, his expression more earnest now. “I mean, I can’t say for sure whether I’m in my right mind, but…” He was weirdly nervous about saying this. But the situation couldn’t possibly get more awkward than it already was. “I actually… am attracted to you,” he said quietly. “I just… didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. That’s all.”

Oswald scoffed. “You’re having a laugh.” He said shaking his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I already know I’m hideous … I look like a Penguin, as everybody loves to remind me of.” 

“You… really believe that, don’t you?” said Murphy quietly. He walked over and sat down on the side of the bed, still leaving Oswald plenty of space. “I don’t care how many times you’ve heard that. People are cruel bastards, as you made a point of telling me last night,” he said, looking Oswald directly in the eyes. “But that doesn’t make them right. For one thing, they’ve clearly never seen a penguin. The proportions just don’t match up.” He wanted to reach out and put a hand on Oswald’s shoulder, but didn’t. “Just… cards all on the table here, I’ve been… kind of drawn to you from the start. And… and Mooney was right; I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you in that suit tonight. It’s not that I don’t want you, it’s just… I kept thinking about how you panicked last night when I just tried to examine your ribs and… I just didn’t want to put you in a situation where you felt that way again,” he said. “I want you, believe me I do, but … not like this.”

Oswald sighed, his hand going to his shirt and tugging it out of his pants. He lifted the material until Murphy could see the dark black and blue bruise on this ribs, a yellowish tinge around the edges. But underneath that were three rather nasty looking scars. 

"It had nothing to do with you touching me ... I just ...." He paused putting his shirt back down. "I don't like people seeing them." He said unsure really why he was showing Murphy now. Perhaps because he had control over showing him and wasn't being forced. The scars were something he had been ashamed of for years. He even hated his mother seeing them. 

At least now though, Murphy would see just how repulsive he was. He didn't understand why Murphy was lying to him. 

He was already willing to do what Mooney requested, why bother playing with him? There was no way Murphy could find him ... Appealing. He was far too short, his nose too large, his hands shook, he stuttered too much, his nose was beak like and seemed to be perpetually red and running in the winter, despite being so thin he had a bit of a belly on him which he couldn't get rid of no matter what he did, he had dark bags under his bug eyes and his ears were too large and stuck out. 

Doesn't exactly paint a pretty picture. And that wasn't even counting his oddly cut hair which seemed to be three different lengths despite his hair cut. 

Upon seeing the scars, Murphy managed to keep from showing much of a facial reaction. He’d seen more than his share of nasty injuries, and Oswald was clearly self-conscious about them. But he also knew that those had to have been painful at one point… Why did everything seem to keep happening to Oswald? “How did it happen?” he asked quietly, then quickly added. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

Oswald shook his head and leaned back against the headboard. "Um ...." He looked up at the ceiling wondering if he should tell him, but really there wasn't much Murphy could do with the information. 

"The first one happened when I was eight. A guy I went to school with found his dad's hunting knife and snuck it to school. He had his friends pin me down on the playground while everyone else watched. He was going to cut his name into my stomach ... But only got the T and part of the Y before the teachers heard me screaming. I was bleeding so badly they didn't have enough time to properly freeze me before they started stitching me up ... I needed 47 stitches. The second one I was twelve. We were on a wilderness field trip and some kids from school cornered me by a very steep hill. One kid named Tommy pushed me down the hill, thought it would be funny and I landed on a broken log. Unfortunately there was a broken branch where I landed and it went straight in. I was rushed to the hospital and pronounced dead for five minutes before the doctors brought me back." Oswald said running his fingers over the scar through the fabric of his shirt. 

"The last one ..." Oswald paused. The last one was the hardest for him to talk about. "I .... I was fourteen. My ..." Oswald paused again his hand moving away from the scar. "My father ... Got a little rougher than usual ... He was drunk one night and my mom and my brothers were out ...." He shivered at the thought of what happened that night. "He always blamed me for being different ... For being ugly ... Not normal .... He wanted another normal son and he ended up with me. He didn't like that so .... He .... He tried to get rid of me." 

Murphy had winced several times through the first two stories; those were bad enough. But at the last one, his eyes widened in shock. Oswald’s own father had actually tried to...? What kind of man would even... Murphy was silent for a long moment. How was he even supposed to respond to something like that? What could he possibly say that would be at all helpful?

Oswald's voice sounded hollow as he continued. "He planned the whole thing ... Despite being so drunk ..." Oswald laughed and shook his head. "He uh ... Opened the window in my room before I came home ... My room was the only one without a fire escape ... We fought, he called me some things, I yelled at him back ... He grabbed me and pulled me into my room. I thought he was going to beat me like usual but ... He pulled me towards the window-" 

Murphy reached over impulsively and put a hand on Oswald’s shoulder, as if trying to pull him out of that memory and back into the present. “You don’t have to say any more,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I… think I get the idea.”

Oswald looked up at Murphy as if he were surprised that he was there, as if he'd forgotten he was talking to someone. "I ... I'm sorry ... I ...." 

Murphy shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said.. “That… that’s terrible. All of it. Did… did anyone ever do anything about it?” It occurred to him that maybe he was overstepping his boundaries to just put his hand on Oswald’s shoulder like that… but Oswald didn’t seem upset by it at the moment, so he left it there.

"No." Oswald said. "Police don't care about a poor kid from the Narrows. I was in the hospital for four months before they sent me back home with him. He acted as if nothing happened. Still beat me on occasion, would give my brothers things while I got nothing ... Locked me in the closet if he had one of his 'girls' over while mom was out." Oswald leaned his head back against the headboard and looked at Murphy. 

"You have no idea the amount of times I've fantasized about getting revenge ... Being the one to take my anger out on him ..." He shook his head looking forward again. 

Murphy looked back at him intently, and asked: “Did you ever get the chance?” A part of him seriously hoped that the answer to that was yes, that he’d been able to claim some semblance of control over his life that way, even if only for a moment. Right now, the image that Murphy had of Oswald’s life seemed relentlessly bleak, in the past and the present alike.

"No ..." Oswald said. “He took my brother’s and left one year. Left me and my mother alone. Which I preferred, at least we didn’t have to deal with him anymore.” 

“Well,” Murphy said. “At least… at least he couldn’t hurt you anymore.” He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say. Maybe Oswald had felt disappointed that it had ended that way, that he’d never gotten the chance to fully retaliate. Maybe he was just relieved that it was over. “How did she take all of this?” asked Murphy. “Your mother, I mean.”

"My mother ... She's ...." Oswald tried to think of a word to describe his mother but came up with nothing. "My mother was always aware of everything where I was concerned. The bullying, the abuse .... So she paid more attention to me ... I was always her special boy and could do no wrong ... I think the fact that my father didn’t take me is what kept her going." 

Murphy nodded. “That.... kind of makes sense,” he said. Granted, it might have been more helpful if she’d actually done something about all the hell Oswald had been going through … but she might not have really been able to. Murphy didn’t know the situation well enough to judge. Of course… if you treated someone like they were perfect, that made it hard to see them for who they really were. Murphy felt like he was beginning to piece it all together; just about everyone had always either ignored Oswald or treated him like garbage, with the exception of his mother… who didn’t always see the real him. No wonder Oswald didn’t seem to think much of himself. 

“I… had no idea,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. “About any of this… I’m sorry that all of those things happened to you.” There was no reason for any of it. None at all. What the hell was wrong with humanity?

Oswald laughed bitterly. "Welcome to Gotham ... I sadly haven't had it the worst here. My story is actually quite common. You'll learn soon enough." 

Murphy sighed. “I’ll just take your word for it,” he said. “People can be pretty terrible just about anywhere… I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked if Gotham lives up to its reputation.”

Oswald looked over at Murphy. "So I gave you my sob story. What tragic event brought you here?" 

Murphy stiffened slightly. “What makes you think there’s a tragic event?” he said with his most convincing smile. “Maybe I’m just here for the crime and debauchery.” He glanced away and changed the subject. “Look, about what happened downstairs… I swear I wasn’t trying to make things worse for you. I had no idea she’d take things in the direction that she did… I really am sorry about that.”

Oswald shrugged. "It not the worst thing that's happened to me, as you now well know." He said looking over to him. "After showing you the scars and telling you ... All that stuff. Do you still find me desirable?" He asked as casually as if he were asking about the weather. 

Murphy looked back at him. Was all that supposed to change his mind? Why would he like Oswald less because of things that were beyond his control? “Yes,” he said simply. “But you still don’t believe me, do you.”

Oswald shook his head. "Not really." He said simply. To be honest he wasn't sure how he felt about Murphy being attracted to him if he was telling the truth. 

“Why not?” Murphy asked. “I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about it.” Then again, he was looking at Oswald from his own perspective, where he didn’t have to question it. “Look,” he sighed. “If, everything else aside, you did believe me… how would you feel about that?”

Oswald stayed silent a few moments before rubbing his hand down his face. "About someone being attracted to me? Or the fact that we're the same gender?" 

“Both,” said Murphy, trying to read the expression on Oswald’s face, as if it would answer his question for him. Of course, he also wanted to know what Oswald thought of him in particular… but given the circumstances, that might not be possible yet. “I mean… I don’t even know if you like men.”

Oswald laughed quietly. "Neither do I." He said honestly. "I suppose I've always been curious but ... I've never been with one before. Then again I've never been with a female before either so how do I know if I like them either?" 

“I would highly recommend both,” quipped Murphy with a smile. “Though not everyone would agree.” He paused for a moment, his expression more serious again. “But… would you be interested at all in maybe... trying to find out?”

Oswald thought about it for a few moments, his body shivering with sudden nerves. "Um ... Well ... I-I-I ... I guess ... I mean ... I've never ...." 

Murphy gently touched the side of Oswald’s face. “We don’t have to do this all at once,” he said. “I don’t think going all the way tonight would be a good idea anyway.” Given the circumstances, even if Oswald said he was sure, Murphy would always wonder if he was just doing this because he thought he had to. That was the last thing he wanted. “And if you decide you don’t like it, just say so, and I promise that’ll be it.” Then he leaned in and kissed him, still half certain that Oswald would pull away.


	7. There's a first time for everything

Chapter 7: There’s A First Time For Everything

 

Oswald froze, not responding as Murphy leaned in to kiss him. He wasn't sure why it surprised him, or what the surprise was for ... The fact that a man was kissing him, or the fact that it felt good. 

Oswald stayed a bit stiff, nervous, his hands still at his sides clenching the sheets. He pulled away and looked at Murphy ... He just .... He kissed him. He willingly kissed him .... If he was just playing with him why would he do that? Surely he'd go for other things ... Things that didn't involve putting his mouth anywhere near Oswald. 

Oswald looked at Murphy a moment before licking his lips slowly, a faint taste of chocolate lingered there and Oswald found himself wanting to try more. 

Before he could stop himself, before he could think better of it Oswald leaned forward and kissed Murphy. His mouth moved against his, sloppily and clearly inexperienced. 

Murphy had been uncertain what to make of Oswald’s stiffness during the first kiss. Was he just nervous, surprised or… was he genuinely uncomfortable with this? Murphy watched Oswald’s face as he pulled away, trying to gage his reaction … and was completely taken aback when Oswald just dove right back in. 

His mouth tasted of cigarettes, as Murphy had suspected that he might, yet Murphy found that he didn’t mind. He clearly didn’t have much experience as a kisser … though Murphy somehow found the idea of that exciting. Everything would be completely new for Oswald, and Murphy would get to see his reaction as he experienced everything for the first time. Oswald’s kissing was sloppy … but right now, Murphy was just thrilled that he’d decided to kiss him back at all. Murphy leaned forward into the kiss, moving his mouth against Oswald’s, putting an arm around to gently run his hand down Oswald’s back. Then, testing to see how he would react, he slipped his tongue into Oswald’s mouth. 

Oswald stiffened again and pulled back, breaking the kiss. "Wh-" he paused his cheeks turning red in embarrassment. 

Murphy looked at him, confused for a moment. Had it really bothered him that much? Or … did Oswald actually not know about using tongue? If he was that inexperienced, Murphy guessed it might be a possibility. “That’s … actually a pretty common thing to do,” he said. “But if you don’t like it, that’s … that’s fine.”

"No, I just ... It was ... Odd ... Different. It kind of felt weird ... Not a bad weird just ..." Oswald knew he was turning red up to his ears. 

Murphy couldn’t help smiling slightly. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable … but Oswald really was adorable when he was embarrassed. “So … would you be alright with trying it again?”

Oswald thought about it a moment before he slowly nodded, still shivering with nerves. 

Murphy leaned forward again and kissed him, gently at first, moving his mouth against Oswald’s more intensely as he continued, then slipped his tongue through Oswald’s lips again, deepening the kiss.

Oswald tensed again, but didn't pull away. He wasn't sure how to respond really but he tried taking Murphys lead. The more Murphy moved his tongue against his the more he grew used to it. The more he grew used to it the more he liked it and it wasn't long before he found himself relaxing slightly and his hand straying up to Murphy’s side. 

Murphy was encouraged as he felt Oswald relax a little. He wrapped his arms around him and held him gently, careful not to hurt Oswald’s injured ribs. Still kissing him, Murphy gently pulled Oswald away from the headboard, guiding him to move slightly so that he could lean him back down onto the bed. 

Oswald broke the kiss and swallowed nervously, still shaking a bit as he moved down on the bed and watched Murphy move down as well. 

"Why do you still want to do this?" Oswald asked. "I mean ... With me?" 

Murphy looked down at Oswald, at his nervousness and disbelief, and wanted him more now than ever. He wanted to make Oswald feel so good, so wanted, that he never doubted that again. But how the hell could he even begin to explain that?

“I just … don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you,” Murphy said honestly. He didn’t know if that was a good enough explanation. “And maybe I just met you, but … I really think you’re stronger than anyone else seems to notice. I admire that.”

"You don't know me ..." Oswald pointed out quietly, his hand still on Murphy’s side. "You don't know what kind of things I've done." 

“I don’t care what you’ve done,” said Murphy. “Anyway, you don’t know me either.” Though he’d dodged Oswald’s inquiry into his past for the time being, he knew Oswald had noticed he was changing the subject. He dreaded when that might come up again later. “I just know I want you.” He started kissing down Oswald’s neck.

Oswald shifted next to him, squirming slightly as Murphy’s mouth went to his neck. That felt good, he had to admit that ... So far everything Murphy did felt good. He couldn't understand why this man wanted him but he was enjoying it.

He hoped Murphy wouldn't be like Fish, wouldn't leave him high and dry just as he was about to finish, but even with that thought he couldn't help but feel his pants getting tighter, feel the zipper of his pants suddenly pressing harder against him through his underwear. 

Murphy continued to kiss down Oswald’s neck. His own pants were feeling more than a little tight at the moment as well; the idea that Oswald liked what he was doing was intoxicating to him. He loosened Oswald’s tie, then started to undo the top buttons of his shirt, kissing a little further down as he did. 

Oswald reached up and pulled his tie loose, tossing the material to the side his hands going to Murphy’s bow tie and pulling it loose.

"I could never figure out how to tie one of these things." He said with a soft smile. 

“I could teach you sometime,” Murphy said, continuing to undo the buttons down the front of Oswald’s shirt. “It just takes practice. And some swearing.” He was glad that Oswald didn’t seem to mind him opening his shirt; maybe, now that Murphy had already seen the scars, Oswald trusted that he wasn’t bothered by them. Once he had all of the buttons undone, Murphy continued his trail of kisses where he’d left off at Oswald’s neck, down past his collarbone and further, softly now as he neared Oswald’s injuries.

Oswald shifted uncomfortably as Murphy neared the scars, his lips just above the raised T. "Don't ..." He said trying to pull away as Murphy tried moving further down. "N-Not there ..." Oswald said quietly, a look of apprehension on his face. 

Murphy paused and looked up at Oswald, conflicted for a moment. If it seriously upset Oswald, then maybe he should stop. But if it was just because he was self-conscious, if he still thought that Murphy would be repulsed … wouldn’t it be better to prove him wrong? “I told you,” he whispered. “It doesn’t bother me.” Then, very softly, he kissed over the scar, just once at first, to see if Oswald was upset by it.

Oswald didn't stop him, but barely responded beyond a slight shiver. He watched Murphys lips move over the T shaped scar and swallowed quietly. He wasn't sure how he felt about this ... It didn't feel bad but ... 

When Oswald didn’t stop him, Murphy planted another light kiss further along the scar, still paying close attention for any sign that Oswald was still uncomfortable with this. Maybe, if Oswald would let him, he could replace some of those painful memories with something more positive.

Oswald kept his eyes on him as his lips moved over the scars. He shifted his hips as Murphy kept kissing downwards. 

"What .... What are you doing?" He asked. 

At this point, the trail of scars that Murphy had been following led him right up to the hem of Oswald’s pants. He left another kiss right at the edge before he would have hit fabric, then looked up at him. “Well…” he said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed what direction I’m heading.” He’d gotten so preoccupied that he’d forgotten just how inexperienced Oswald was. If even just kissing with tongue required explanation, there was a chance this might too. He might as well just be up-front about it. If he just vaguely hinted and acted like Oswald should already know these things, he’d just be embarrassed if he didn’t. “Okay, forgive me if this is a stupid question, but do you know what a blow job is?”

Oswald opened his mouth to answer and paused. He'd heard the term before and knew it was something sexual but he really didn't know what it was.

He shook his head, blushing again. 

"Sorry ... I'm ... Um ..." He was embarrassed. He was a full grown man and didn't know a lot about sex. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?” Murphy said with a reassuring smile. “That’s why I asked.” And it was a good thing he had. Otherwise, this could have gotten really awkward really fast. He seriously needed to do a better job of keeping Oswald’s lack of experience in mind. Though Murphy had never actually had to explain this to anyone before, let alone right before he proposed doing it. “So it’s… pleasuring someone with your mouth, basically.” 

"Y-you've been doing that already." Oswald said confused, not really sure what Murphy meant. What he'd been doing already was ... Pleasurable. 

“Well, I guess you could say that,” Murphy admitted with a slight laugh. This was what he got for using euphemisms instead of stating it directly. “But, um… on your cock, though,” he said bluntly. “To get you off.” As innocent as Oswald was, Murphy really wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect from him, but he wasn’t going to just hint at it and risk doing something Oswald was uncomfortable with due to sheer lack of knowledge.

Oswald's eyes widened in shock. He remembered in high school walking into the boys bathroom and seeing one of the girls doing that to one of that guys but he never understood what they were doing. 

"Wh- .... Why would you want to do that? That ... Doesn't sound enjoyable for you." He said though despite his words he could feel his cock pulse in his pants. 

“It would be enjoyable for you though,” said Murphy. “Which I would find extremely gratifying. In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to immensely enjoy making you feel good. So don’t worry about me ... The important question here is, are you okay with it?”

Oswald moved up slightly, unintentionally bringing his bulge closer to Murphy’s face as he leaned a bit against the headboard. 

"Um ... I ... If you want to ..." He said. He wanted Murphy to do it but he didn't want Murphy to do anything he didn't want to. 

Murphy smiled, and started undoing Oswald’s belt buckle. “It was my idea, remember?” He had the front of Oswald’s pants open in a matter of seconds, and gently brought out Oswald’s cock, thrilled to see just how hard he was. Murphy gave the tip a playful lick, before slipping it into his mouth, beginning to work his way further down the shaft. He didn’t think Oswald would be able to last very long this first time, so he wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible with the time that he had.

Oswald's mouth opened in surprise as he felt Murphys tongue on his shaft. He couldn't believe how good that felt, but the heat of Murphy's mouth had Oswald closing his eyes, his hands going to Murphy's head before thinking better of it and gripping the bars on the headboard above him. 

His breathing already seemed to come heavier as he was wracked with pleasure from his mouth and, unknown to Oswald, Murphy hadn't really done anything yet. 

Murphy had been looking forward to Oswald’s reaction, but hadn’t expected anything near that intense this quickly. After he briefly felt Oswald’s hands on his head, Murphy took the hint and continued to work his mouth further down Oswald’s shaft, moving his tongue against the shaft as he did, loving the thought of what this must be doing to him.

The only real experience Oswald had was with his own hand, and after feeling this he doubted he'd ever want to go back. 

"Murphy ..." Oswald moaned as the man moved his tongue against his cock, pre cum dripping from the tip. 

Murphy shivered slightly at the sound of his name … well, his new name, anyway … on Oswald’s lips, and took even more of him into his mouth, tasting pre-cum already. He wanted so badly to hear Oswald moan like that again, and his cock strained against the inside of his pants at the thought of it.

Oswald shifted his hips upwards towards Murphy’s mouth, more focused on how good this felt rather than how self conscious he would be otherwise. He moaned as he felt the pleasure building up inside of him and he looked down to see his cock disappearing into Murphy’s mouth over and over again, each suck of his mouth making a soft wet noise which sent another jolt of pleasure through him. 

Murphy continued working his mouth up and down Oswald’s cock, his tongue caressing the shaft as he sucked, thrilled to hear Oswald moan again. As he felt Oswald’s hips start to move up against him, he knew it probably wouldn’t be long now. He wasn’t worried about how long this lasted; if Oswald was enjoying it this much, Murphy was hopeful that they would have other nights like this in the future.

"Murphy ..." Oswald groaned his hands going away from the headboard finally. "Murphy I .... Stop ..." He said feeling his orgasm nearing. He knew if he came in Murphy’s mouth it would be extremely gross and he didn't want Murphy to leave because he couldn't control himself. "Murphy ... I'm ... I'm going to cum." 

Murphy didn’t pull back, but kept Oswald’s cock in his mouth, still working his tongue over the shaft. Though he couldn’t exactly say anything to reassure Oswald right now, he really didn’t mind if Oswald came in his mouth … though if they got cum on the sheets in Fish’s establishment, they could easily both be in trouble. This way just made more sense.

"Murphy ... Stop .." Oswald said, his hand going to his hair and pulling gently trying to get him to pull back. "Murphy." Before he could stop himself he felt his body tense. Still holding Murphy's hair he couldn't stop himself from thrusting upwards as he came harder than he could remember doing before. "Murphy!" He cried out as his cock pulsed inside Murphy’s mouth, streams of cum shooting into his mouth. 

Murphy found he rather liked the feeling of Oswald’s hand tugging at his hair, even more so when he thrust up into his mouth and cried out his name … The sheer amount of cum was surprising. Aside from not having done this before, it had clearly been awhile since Oswald had gotten off by any means at all. When he felt sure Oswald was done, Murphy swallowed and pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he did.

Oswald relaxed against the bed, his cock softening against his pants as he watched Murphy wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"That ..." Oswald said trying to catch his breath as if he'd run around the block a few times. "That was .... Wow ...." 

Murphy grinned. “Exactly the reaction I was hoping for … I take it you’d be willing to try that again in the future?” And, hopefully, a few other things as well.

"I ... Well ... I mean .... You'd want to?" He asked looking at Murphy surprised he'd want to do that again. He looked down at the bulge in Murphy’s pants and swallowed quietly. "Do ... You want me to ..." He paused feeling embarrassed about saying it out loud. 

Murphy looked back at him. “To what?” he asked. If they were going to make a habit out of this … and he certainly hoped they were … then he didn’t want Oswald to feel like he had to be embarrassed asking him about it.

"Um ..." Oswald stayed silent not really sure how to ask. "Do ... Do you want me to ... To do that ... To you?" 

Murphy had to squash down the urge to respond with an immediate ‘yes, please.’ As strongly as the idea appealed to him, he didn’t think Oswald was really ready for that tonight. “You don’t have to,” he said, though the bulge in his pants was demanding that he change that answer immediately. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

He lay down on the bed to Oswald’s left, trying to will the bulge in his pants to calm down and stop being so damn insistent. 

Oswald turned towards him, not saying anything as he cuddled up next to him. He played with one of the buttons on Murphy’s shirt hating how vulnerable he felt right now. 

"What is this Murphy?" Oswald asked. "What's going to happen tomorrow?" He asked looking up at him. "What's going to happen when you're working the bar and I'm following Mooney around like her personal servant .... Is this going to be over then? Whatever 'this' is." 

Murphy turned toward Oswald and put his arm around him. At first, he was too surprised by the question to respond. He wouldn’t have dared to hope that Oswald would feel any attachment toward him. Earlier this evening, Oswald hadn’t even been sure if he was attracted to men, and before that, Murphy had gotten the impression that Oswald didn’t particularly like him. And now … now this?

“No,” Murphy said softly, shaking his head. “I … I don’t want it to be over. If you’re busy a lot of the time, that’s fine, but … I want to try to continue this.” He ran a hand through Oswald’s choppy hair. “This is the first time since I came to Gotham that I haven’t felt completely lost.” Since a while before that, really. Whatever exactly this was between them, Murphy didn’t want to lose it.

Oswald's hand moved down to Murphy's belt, pulling the buckle free, his eyes staying on his hands not daring to look up at Murphy's face. He pulled the button free and slid the zipper down. 

His hands shook slightly with nerves. This was something he hadn't even thought about doing, let alone having any experience doing so. He doubted he would be very good, but it wasn't fair that Murphy do that for him and not reciprocate, even if it was just a hand job ... At least he had some experience doing that to himself, he doubted it would be much different. 

Murphy looked over at Oswald, surprised, but Oswald wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was clearly nervous about what he was doing … but he was doing it of his own accord, none-the-less. He wasn’t sure exactly what Oswald was willing to do at this point, and thought it was best to leave it up to him. He ran his fingers through Oswald’s hair again. “Only do what you’re comfortable with,” he said quietly, though a slight tremor crept into his voice from excitement. How long had it even been since he’d been with anyone?

Oswald glanced up at him and swallowed nervously as he pulled Murphy's underwear down. 

Oswald froze when he saw how big Murphy was. It made Oswald's seem tiny in comparison and it made Oswald embarrassed about the entire situation. 

"I .... Um ..." He wanted to ask Murphy if his size was normal, if he was oddly small. Murphy looked as if he was three or four inches longer than him and by the looks of it was twice as thick. He hated to admit it but ... It frightened him a bit. 

Murphy looked at Oswald, concerned. “Is something wrong?” he asked. Maybe Oswald had thought he’d be okay with this, but was having second thoughts about handling another man’s cock after all? Or maybe it was something else?

"Well ..." Oswald could feel the heat in his face, felt his ears burning with embarrassment. "You're ... Well ... You're a ... A lot bigger than me." 

Murphy laughed slightly. “Well… yes,” he acknowledged. “But larger can actually be a little inconvenient sometimes.” For one thing, if Oswald had been much bigger, Murphy would have had a very difficult time of things when he’d just unexpectedly thrust up into his mouth like that. “And you may have noticed that I happen to really, really like yours… though if you’ve forgotten that already, just rest ten minutes and I’ll remind you again.”

Oswald looked up at him confused. "Why ten minutes?" He asked looking back down at Murphy's cock and nervously placing his palm onto it, rubbing up the underside. 

“Because,” Murphy started to explain. “It takes most men a minimum of about ten minutes before they can get it up again after…” As he felt Oswald’s palm rub against the underside of his cock, Murphy suddenly found himself very distracted, and had difficulty finishing his sentence. “After… um… coming.” Even just one simple touch felt so good.

Oswald looked up at him as he faltered in his sentence. Did ... Did he do that? 

Oswald watched Murphy's face as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and giving it an experimental gentle squeeze. 

Murphy sighed, his hips shifting upwards slightly as Oswald lightly squeezed him.

Oswald looked back down at his hand which was wrapped around his cock. He seemed to enjoy it at least a little though Oswald couldn't really gauge how much. 

He moved his hand upwards, keeping his hand around Murphy's cock the same way he did to his own when he was alone in his bedroom. 

He started slowly pumping Murphy with his hand, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. 

Murphy closed his eyes as Oswald started slowly pumping at his cock, and he began thrusting upward against Oswald’s hand. Of course it felt good after so long… but Murphy also found it thrilling just to know that Oswald felt comfortable doing something like this already.

Oswald moved down slightly so he was laying on his side, his head closer to Murphy's stomach making it easier for Oswald to stroke him. He watched the head of his cock disappear into his fist before poking back out again with each pump, going base to tip with each stroke. 

A low moan escaped Murphy’s lips as Oswald’s hand continued to stroke up and down his shaft. He reached over and ran a hand through Oswald’s hair again, thrusting a little faster against his hand now, and he closed his eyes, envisioning all the other things he’d like to do with Oswald on other nights like this in the future… 

“Oswald…” he murmured.

Oswald felt his own cock stir but just barely as he heard Murphy moan his name. He looked up at Murphy who had his eyes closed and looked back down at his shaft. His fist slid down to the base and before Oswald could change his mind he leaned forward and took the head into his mouth. 

Murphy gasped in surprise and pleasure at the sudden feeling of Oswald’s mouth around the tip of his cock, and involuntarily thrust upward slightly, toward that wonderful sensation, before realizing what he was doing, that Oswald was inexperienced and would need to take this slowly. 

Oswald pulled up as soon as he thrust forward, not expecting him to do so though he supposed he should have anticipated that since he'd done the exact same thing. Though with Murphy’s size and his inexperience he doubted he be able to take as much of Murphy into his mouth as Murphy had.

He wiped the drool from his mouth and looked up at Murphy before taking the head back into his mouth and taking him further down into his mouth. He went down as far as he could, his fist pumping the rest before drawing his mouth back up. 

“Sorry,” Murphy gasped as Oswald pulled back. He opened his eyes and looked back at Oswald, concerned … but it looked like he’d pulled back quickly enough that he hadn’t gagged and, far from seeming discouraged, Oswald took him right back into his mouth. Murphy tried to keep relatively still this time, but it was hard; what Oswald was doing just felt so good … It seemed like he was being smart about it too, not pushing himself to take on more than he could manage, using his hand to make up the rest .... Oswald might not have any experience, but he seemed to have a good instinct for this. “You’re … you’re doing great,” he said by way of encouragement, though his words came out a little breathless. 

Oswald pulled off of him and looked up at his face, the taste of bitter precum lingering on this tongue. 

He smiled softly before running his tongue up the underside of his shaft from base to tip. "At least you're lasting longer than I did." He said planting kisses along his shaft. He wasn't sure if that was normal but he felt compelled to do it. 

Murphy gasped as Oswald’s tongue ran up his shaft. He was about to respond to his comment, but then Oswald started kissing along his shaft, and all coherent thought went out of his mind. He moaned again. Everything Oswald was doing just felt so good … and he seemed far more confident now, taking the initiative more than Murphy would have expected tonight, which he found intensely attractive.

Oswald took Murphy’s cock back into his mouth a moment before he looked up. He brought his free hand to Murphy’s, taking his hand and leading it back to his head before he closed his eyes and continued sucking. 

Murphy ran his fingers through Oswald’s hair, and his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, refraining from really thrusting upward, but unable to keep completely still anymore. He could feel the pleasure building inside him as Oswald sucked.

Oswald felt the tip near the back of his throat as Murphy thrust upwards, his throat contracted as he gagged and pulled back coughing slightly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand again and cleared his throat before taking it back into his mouth. It was thrilling really, the fact that he was making Murphy lose control but at the same time enjoying the fact that Murphy was even trying to maintain that control over himself. 

Murphy gasped out an apology when Oswald pulled away coughing, but Oswald didn’t even hesitate before diving right back in. Murphy tried to get ahold of himself; no matter how determined Oswald was, he didn’t want to make him gag like that again, and he really should have better control over himself … but God, it felt so good. He continued to run his hand through Oswald’s hair, his other hand gripping the sheets, as he could feel his orgasm building …

“Oswald,” he warned breathlessly. “I … I’m going to cum.”

Oswald had a sudden sense of anxiety at those words. He didn't want him to cum in his mouth but what did Murphy expect him to do? Did he want him to swallow it as he had? Could he pull back? Would he be mad for making him make a mess all over his still buttoned up shirt? Oswald didn't have time to think about it as Murphy was still in his mouth. 

When Oswald didn’t pull back, it occurred to Murphy that maybe he didn’t realize that he could, that he should have brought that up earlier … “Y-you don’t have to- you can pull back-” But there wasn’t time to explain Oswald’s options. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, and before he could get out another warning, he felt his orgasm peak. He tensed up and both his hands clenched in Oswald's hair, unintentionally holding him there as he thrust upwards, cum shooting into Oswald's mouth. 

Oswald tensed, his arms flailing slightly as Murphy gripped his hair, his cock thrust up into his mouth as he came. Oswald's hands went down to the sheets on either side of Murphy gripping the material as he gagged around the head of his cock, the bitter taste of cum making him cough around him. He tried pulling back from Murphy as tears pricked his eyes. 

He started to panic, 'Let go!' He screamed in his head. One hand still gripping the sheet the other going up to Murphy's arm. 

Once he finished cumming, Murphy realized that his hands were clenched in Oswald’s hair, and that he was coughing and trying to pull away from him. He immediately let go, but the damage was already done. “I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting up and putting a steadying hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “I really didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

When Murphy finally let him go he pulled away coughing now that his airway was finally free. He coughed for a few moments, the taste of cum thick in his mouth before he calmed himself and swallowed whatever was left. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It ... It's okay." He said. Now that his initial panic was gone he realized he actually liked Murphy losing control like that. Liked having him do what he did. "Just ... Give me a warning next time ... Please." He said as he laid down next to Murphy. He pulled Murphy back down on the bed and cuddled up next to him, Oswald's erection pressed against Murphy's hip.

“If it happens again, I promise I will,” he said, settling down comfortably next to Oswald. “I’m sorry I got carried away like that in the first place, though. It’s just … it’s been a really, really long time. And I also should have told you earlier, you don’t have to swallow like I did if you don’t want to. It’s okay to pull back …” He felt Oswald’s erection pressed against him and paused, surprised. Evidently, Murphy’s loss of control hadn’t upset Oswald as much as he’d thought. 

"It's okay. I ... I enjoyed it." He said resting his head on Murphy's shoulder, shifting his hips against him as he yawned. 

“Apparently,” Murphy smiled slightly, as Oswald shifted his hips against him. “Do you want me to take care of that before we call it a night?” Though he felt very relaxed right now, and would have been content just to lay there with Oswald’s head resting on his shoulder … he didn’t want to leave him wanting either.

Oswald mumbled something as he put his arm around Murphy, his eyes closed. "You smell good." He whispered. It was random Oswald knew, but it was something that had struck him a few times since coming into this room. 

Murphy chuckled slightly, interpreting that to mean Oswald’s brain had checked out for the night. He found it endearing, though… and also comforting to know that his attempts to keep himself presentable despite lacking a real residence had been successful so far. According to Oswald, anyway. “You’re cute, you know that?” Murphy sighed and put an arm around Oswald, just enjoying the feeling of being close to him. And also far more comfortable than he’d felt in a few weeks now. He didn’t want to get up, but they probably shouldn’t fall asleep here… surely Miss. Mooney hadn’t intended to let them spend the whole night up here? Then again, she had said she didn’t want to see them, and Murphy didn’t want to disturb Oswald when he seemed so cosy … Maybe a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Murphy kissed Oswald on the cheek, and let his eyes close.

((I can't believe I haven't updated this since May I am so so so so sorry. We have like 400+ pages of this written and I'm soooooo bad at updating. I wanted to get 1 chapter up a month, so I'll post three more chapters. Again for those of you following I'm sooooooo sorry. DX ))


	8. Good Morning

Chapter 8: Good Morning

 

Oswald groaned quietly as he shifted on the bed. He sighed as he become fully aware of someone pressing against his back. 

Murphy ... Oswald's tired brain finally functioning enough to remember last night. He smirked slightly as Murphy shifted against him, the man's erection pressing against his ass through the material of his pants. 

Oswald smirked as he pressed back into him and heard Murphy moan in his sleep. He turned on the bed and looked up at Murphy's sleeping face. 

Oswald watched Murphy turn onto his back, his erection making a slight tent in the blanket they'd somehow drawn up during the night. 

He smirked as an idea came to him. He slipped under the blanket and looked at Murphy's swollen shaft a moment before taking it into his hand. 

Murphy moaned quietly in his sleep, his hips shifting slightly in the direction of Oswald’s hand. He was still far from awake.

Oswald smiled as he stroked his cock a few times before taking it into his mouth. He sucked on the tip before taking more of it into his mouth. His hand wrapped around the base, pumping his hand in time with his mouth. 

Murphy began half-consciously moving slightly against Oswald’s hand … and then gasped awake at the sudden sensation at the tip of his cock. His eyes opened, looking down to find someone going down on him under the blanket. Was he dreaming? When had this started? How- “Oswald?” he asked, more than a little disoriented.

Oswald didn't say anything as he took his cock in deeper, feeling the head pressing towards the back of his throat before he pulled back up again. 

Murphy moaned again as his cock went in deeper for a moment, and it took an enormous effort to remain mostly still instead of thrusting up against him as he pulled back up. Murphy reached down and fumbled to push back the blankets. Yes, it had all really happened, and Oswald was still there, and … and good God, the man was a fast learner.

Oswald helped him flip the blankets down, which felt good to him. It had started getting a bit stuffy under the blanket. He looked up at Murphy as he continued sucking on him, not slowing his pace or depth, his tongue rubbing against the underside with each thrust onto his cock. 

Murphy watched his cock disappear into Oswald’s mouth over and over again, and he reached down to run his fingers through Oswald’s hair, his eyes closing in pleasure. Still he fought to keep from thrusting up too much this time, to avoid losing control like before. He’d just been caught completely off guard this time, and what Oswald was doing with his tongue just felt amazing.

Oswald moaned as he felt Murphy's hands thread through his short hair. He pulled off his cock with a soft pop, jerking him with his hand as he looked up at Murphy. "Stop holding back." He said licking the tip. "Do what you like Murphy." He said licking his cock again before taking it back in his mouth. 

Murphy opened his eyes when Oswald pulled off of his cock, though still mercifully jerking with his hand. He stared back at Oswald, uncertain. Did … did he really want that? He certainly seemed confident about it … When Oswald took his cock back into his mouth, Murphy found himself doing as Oswald had directed, thrusting upward as Oswald sucked. Though he watched Oswald’s face for any sign of second thoughts. “If … if it’s too much, just let me know,” he said breathlessly, thrusting in once again. “Tap my arm, or something.”

Oswald gagged on his cock but didn't pull all the way off as he sucked up to the tip and pressed back down again. He felt that same thrill he felt, only he felt it more deeply now since he had asked for this. It wasn't unexpected ... He could feel his own cock hardening against his underwear, his pants still on but open from the night before. 

Murphy continued to thrust upward into Oswald’s mouth, running a hand through Oswald’s hair again, though now pulling slightly, curious to see how he would react. He found himself starting to thrust a little faster, and looked down at Oswald to see if it bothered him at all. A low moan escaped him as the pleasure built inside him.

Oswald gagged with each thrust upward and felt Murphy pull him down onto his cock. After the fifth thrust Oswald shook his head and pulled back letting his cock fall from his mouth. He took a few needed breaths before taking him back in again. 

Murphy refrained from expressing disappointment when Oswald let his cock fall from his mouth, and watched to see if Oswald was alright. Maybe this really was too much for him; he’d already tried to take on far more than Murphy had expected … But then, to his surprise, Oswald took him back in again. Murphy hesitated; did Oswald really want him to continue at that same pace? Should he try to keep still and make it easier on him? “Are… are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

Oswald didn't answer, but nodded his head with Murphy's cock still in his mouth. He moaned a confirming noise as he took Murphy in deeper once again. He still wasn't able to take the whole thing, barely up to half way but Murphy still managed to choke him. He wasn't sure how Murphy managed to take his whole length into his mouth. Sure he was smaller, but his own cock was still almost two inches longer than he was able to get in. 

Murphy looked back at Oswald in astonishment for a moment, before beginning to move in time with Oswald’s sucking again, though this time not thrusting as far in as before, working his way to it more gradually. Even as good as this felt, there was only so much he could expect of Oswald, especially this early on. The man’s determination was nothing short of amazing.

Oswald moved his hand faster, picking up the speed of his mouth on his shaft, working his tongue around him. Oswald pulled off of his cock with another soft pop and looked up at him. 

"Come for me Murphy." He said quietly, taking it back into his mouth. His own hand going to his hard prick. He knew it wouldn't take much to make himself cum, even though he hadn't been touching himself he could already tell he was close. 

Murphy moaned, his thrusts picking up speed in time with the movements of Oswald’s mouth over his shaft. His words sent a shiver down Murphy’s spine, and the sight of Oswald’s hand going down to his own cock excited him further; the idea of Oswald getting off to this was intoxicating to him. He felt his pleasure building further, and he knew he was close. “Oswald,” he moaned, tugging lightly at his hair again.

Oswald pulled up off his shaft and looked up at him, his hand moving away from his cock as well. He crawled up Murphy’s body before kissing him passionately, his own hard shaft rubbing up against Murphy’s. He slipped his tongue into Murphy’s mouth as he had done last night, his hips grinding against his. 

An involuntary sound of protest escaped Murphy’s throat as Oswald pulled off of his shaft again. But then Oswald’s thin form was on top of him, and Murphy wrapped his arms around him, kissing him back with equal passion, slipping his tongue into Oswald’s mouth as well. As before, Oswald’s mouth still had the distinct, lingering taste that characterized a smoker. With Oswald, though, Murphy found he didn’t mind in the least. He may have managed to kick the habit himself, but in the stress and uncertainty of the past few weeks, he’d been plagued by the urge to go back to it, to the point where only a lack of funds had saved his resolve. Weirdly, the taste was somehow calming to him, and this was far more satisfying than actually falling back into the addiction could ever have been. His hands slipped under Oswald’s open shirt, running across his thin back, encountering other scars that he hadn’t seen before. He felt Oswald’s hips grinding against his, and responded in kind, loving the feeling of Oswald’s hard cock rubbing against his.

Oswald moaned into the kiss as his cock slid against Murphy’s already feeling his orgasm building. His hands ran down his chest as he slowly unbuttoned his Murphy’s shirt, once he got to the last one he pushed it open, his hands running over his chest. 

Murphy sighed into the kiss as Oswald’s hands ran over his chest, and continued to run his own hands over Oswald’s back and shoulders, loving the feeling of Oswald lying on top of him. He could feel his orgasm building, and thrust his hips up against Oswald’s faster, his cock rubbing more vigorously against Oswald’s.

Oswald broke the kiss, his eyes closed as he opened his mouth in a silent moan. He tensed over him as he felt his body give into the pleasure. His head tilted back as he came hard against Murphy’s cock, spilling out over his stomach, a moan finally escaping his mouth. 

Murphy felt Oswald tense against him, and looked up, watching Oswald’s face as he came. The feeling of Oswald’s cum spilling out over him sent him over the edge, and he came hard just seconds later, eyes closing, arms wrapping tighter around Oswald’s back as he cried out his name, thrusting up against him hard one more time as both of their cum spilled over him.

Oswald collapsed on top of Murphy, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath, cum spreading over his own stomach and chest as he laid on top of Murphy. He stayed there for a few moments before he rolled over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had no doubt in his mind that this wouldn’t last past this morning … But he had at least enjoyed it. That in itself gave Oswald a lot to think about. Up until last night he just thought he liked girls … Now though …. He wasn’t too sure. 

Murphy would have been content to let Oswald just lie there on top of him for much longer, but let him have his space when he rolled over onto the bed. For a few moments, he just lay there, breathing heavily, heart still pounding like he’d run a marathon. This… had been a definite success. It was clear that Oswald had enjoyed their night… and morning... together as much as he had, and Murphy didn’t think it would be difficult to get him to come back for more later. Who knew? Maybe, just maybe, in the process of completely wrecking his life, he’d actually managed to find something that wouldn’t fall apart on him. Well, he could hope, anyway.

“That,” Murphy grinned breathlessly, turning on his side to face Oswald. “Was a hell of a way to wake up.”

Oswald kept staring at the ceiling. “That it was …” He said quietly. He glanced over at Murphy, the joy from earlier gone from his face, now was a quiet sadness that he was clearly trying to hide. “You should go get cleaned up. We have to work in a few hours.” 

Murphy nodded. “You’re right,” he sighed, sitting up, come dripping off of him as he did. So much for not making a mess in here … though he supposed it couldn’t be the first time it had happened. Anyway, he’d be glad to make use of a real shower while it was available … though he would also definitely need to go and wash his work clothes again before he came back later this afternoon … He was pretty sure he had enough quarters left for the laundromat, but there was no way there’d be enough left to buy anything to eat that day. He really should have saved some of that candy bar from yesterday … He seriously hoped Miss. Mooney would actually let him do his job and earn some tips this evening, or he was screwed. He stood up to head toward the bathroom, then turned back to Oswald.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. There was something off about Oswald’s expression. “Do you… regret any of this?”

Oswald smiled, but it seemed forced. He shook his head. “No …. of course not … I’m just …. tired.” He said, the smile not leaving his face. 

“Okay, then,” said Murphy, uncertainly. He wasn’t quite buying it, but if Oswald didn’t want to talk about it, then there was no point in pressing the matter. Though, after everything Oswald had been willing to tell him last night, he couldn’t help wondering what he didn’t want to tell him now. He went into the bathroom and started up the shower, closing the door behind him but not bothering to lock it.

Oswald laid on the bed, slowly buttoning up his shirt, ignoring the cum on his chest and sat up. He located his tie in the tangled blankets and put it on, tying it into place. Once he put his shoes back on he headed to the mirror and fiddled with his hair, making it as presentable as possible. He had no doubt that staff would be wandering around by now. 

He sighed and turned to look at the bathroom door before seeing Murphy’s wallet on the bedside table. He sat down on the bed and stared at the wallet, his natural curiosity and distrust getting to him. 

He picked up the wallet, listening to the shower water running and flipped it open. It was mostly empty … No debit, or credit cards, a driver’s license that looked suspiciously brand new with the name Murphy Fletcher printed on it … other than that he just had a bit of loose change. Barely more than a dollar. He sighed and tossed the wallet back onto the dresser. 

Oswald couldn’t get over how new that driver's license was. It seemed odd. Even if Murphy was new to Gotham it seemed odd that he would have just gotten his driver's license replaced. 

He sat on the bed for a moment, listening as the shower turned off. He pulled his own wallet out of his pocket, tossed a twenty onto the dresser next to Murphy’s and quietly slipped out of the room. 

When Murphy emerged from the bathroom, dressed and refreshingly clean, Oswald was gone. That was alright, he supposed. The man probably had other things to do before he had to come back to work. He still wished he knew what had been bothering him, though. He managed to find his socks and shoes, as well as the bowtie. Miss. Mooney wouldn’t have been too happy with him if he’d lost that. 

Then he went over to the bedside table … and found that someone had thrown a twenty down next to it. Murphy stood staring at it for a long moment. What the hell kind of message was Oswald trying to convey? Murphy wasn’t a goddamn prostitute … let alone a cheap one. Surely Oswald knew that? Then why suddenly turn around and treat him like one, before skipping out of the room without even saying goodbye? As an insult? But why? Or was this his way of saying that this didn’t mean anything to him, that Murphy shouldn’t expect anything real to come of their little interaction? Why not just say it to his face instead of … instead of this? Murphy was actually shaking with anger. After the night they’d shared, the hopes Murphy had dared to entertain, this just … hurt. 

It was also damned confusing. If Oswald wanted to insult him, why go out of his way to use money to do it? Hadn’t the guy just been beaten up for rent money the other night? It didn’t make any sense … Unless … Murphy glanced down at his wallet, knowing all too well how little was in it. Was it possible that Oswald suspected just how dire Murphy’s own financial situation was right now? That wasn’t much better; he wasn’t a charity case. He was a grown man who could take care of himself. Hell, he’d spent most of his life taking care of other people as well, he didn’t need this. He’d manage to get by, even in Gotham ... Besides, he’d let nothing slip. There was no way Oswald could suspect how broke he was, not unless he’d actually gone through his wallet ... 

No matter which way Murphy looked at it, no matter how he tried to give Oswald the benefit of the doubt, he still felt insulted. At best, he was being belittled, and at worst, he was being used. And the worst damn part was that, in some corner of his mind where survival took precedence over pride, he kept thinking that he could really, really use that twenty right now … The whole thing was humiliating. No. He’d be damned if he was going to take Cobblepot’s money. But if he left it there, someone else might see it … He snatched it up and stuffed it angrily into his wallet for safekeeping. But he wasn’t going to spend even a cent of it; the first chance he got, he was going to give Oswald his money back … along with a piece of his mind.


	9. It's Complicated

Chapter 9: It’s Complicated

Oswald walked up to the door and knocked. As usual there was no answer so he knocked slower and harder. 

"Mother!" He called out, exasperated. 

Gertrude finally heard Oswald knocking, and came to the door, unlocking each latch before opening it. “Oswald!” she fussed, eyes bloodshot as if she hadn’t slept at all. “Where were you all night!? I was so afraid that something had happened to you! What happened? Why didn’t you call? It is not safe to be out and about at all hours like that! Tell me honestly,” she asked, looking at him with concern. “Has some hussie been turning your head, keeping you away from your mother?” She’d feared the day when that would happen for years, and the thought had gnawed at her again and again as the hours ticked by and her son still hadn’t come home.

"No mom ... There was no hussie. I just fell asleep at work. It's no big deal." He said walking past her towards the bathroom to take a bath. The dried cum on his chest was starting to itch and he felt like one of the painted ladies his mother accused him of being with. 

“Oh,” Gertrude sighed with relief, shaking her head. “Of course not, my good, smart boy knows better … Those painted whores all have diseases, you know ... You are working yourself too hard, my poor Oswald. Of course you fell asleep at work …” She shook her head. “Did you get anything to eat at all?”

"No." He said honestly. His money he had intended to use to buy supper on his break he'd given to Murphy. "I just woke up and came home." He said running his hand over his shirt to relieve some of the itching. He really wanted to get into the tub and clean himself off. 

Gertrude noticed that he was headed toward the bathroom. “You go take a bath, and I will make something for you. It will be ready by the time you are done,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. He really did work himself far too hard; it was a good thing that she was around to look after him. 

"Thanks mom." He said slipping into the bathroom to wash the cum off his chest and stomach. 

\- - - 

Oswald sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face, heading towards the back door. It was a long day, already going on eleven hours and Oswald still had three hours until closing. 

He got outside for his last fifteen minute break and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with an old zippo lighter. 

Throughout the evening, Murphy had observed when Oswald’s breaks were scheduled, and from there estimated when his next one would be. From there, it had been a simple enough matter to switch breaks with one of the other bartenders, so that when Oswald walked out the door for his last smoke break of the night, Murphy was able to take off after him. He wanted some degree of privacy for this conversation.

Murphy let himself out the back into the chill Gotham night air, just as Oswald was lighting up. He glanced around; no one else was back here, and it was noisy enough inside that no one would overhear them from the other side of the door. “You didn’t have much to say once you were done with me this morning,” Murphy said evenly, crossing his arms.

Oswald pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, blowing the smoke out before speaking. "I wasn't aware you were one for long goodbyes," he said hotly, a bit of smoke still coming from his lips as he spoke. "I had to get home, my mother would have been worried. As she had been. I didn't realize it was a crime to go home for a few hours." 

Murphy took a slow breath of second-hand smoke before he spoke, trying to keep from losing his composure. “No, no, that’s not a crime at all,” he said. “Though, last I checked, prostitution technically is, even in Gotham.” He pulled out the twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, unable to keep his voice from shaking slightly with anger. “Exactly what message was I supposed to get from this? Is that really what you think of me?”

Oswald looked at him confused at the mention of prostitution ... What did he- he looked at the twenty dollar bill he pulled out. 

"You know that's not what I think of you. I just thought you'd like to eat today is all ... If anything I was the one told to pleasure you, remember? Wouldn't that make me the whore?" Oswald asked, upset that Murphy would even think that. 

Murphy sighed. Well, at least it apparently wasn’t that. But there were still other implications to deal with. “Neither of us was a whore,” said Murphy, frustrated. “We didn’t do it because of what Miss. Mooney ordered; we did it because we wanted to,” he looked back at Oswald, confused about why he seemed angry too. “I thought we were already past that. That’s why seeing this with no explanation threw me off.”

Oswald started laughing as he flicked ash from his cigarette into the ground. "You know .... I thought you were an honest guy. I wanted so badly to believe what you said last night ... That you wanted that to be more ..." He said sounding more amused than anything. "Go back inside Murphy ... Leave me alone." 

Murphy stared at him. “What the hell are you even talking about? Have I said or done anything today that’s different from last night?”

Oswald turned on him, amusement replaced by sheer anger. A fury that was odd to see on Oswald who had always been so meek and polite. "What have you done or said?! You told my boss I was a cock sucking whore in front of other employees. Did you think I forgot you owed her a 'review' of my performance? Well thank you so much for that glowing review you gave me .... At least now if this job tanks I know I'll have a successful career as a paid whore!" He said so angry his teeth were bared as he talked, his cigarette broken as he tossed it to the ground. "I had no less then three men, some of them your bar buddies, ask me how much I cost for a suck ... Don't pretend you're not gloating about it behind the bar, I can hear you three laughing back there, I'm not deaf!" He said before turning his back on him again and walking a bit down the alley. 

“What?” Murphy snarled, furious. “I never said any of that! I haven’t spoken a word to Fish all day! And why the hell would I go around gloating like that!? Doesn’t that implicate me too? I sucked just as much cock as you did last night; if I were stupid enough to spill the details to Mooney or anyone else, all you’d have to do is the exact same thing in retaliation! There are already rumors flying around after she basically outed me to everyone last night anyway. If you’d kindly tell me who exactly has been propositioning you, I’d like to have a word with them, since they’re probably the same ones who’ve been writing ‘Fag’ on the cocktail napkins all evening!”

Oswald laughed bitterly again and shook his head. "You're a real piece of work you know that ..." He said licking his lips as he regarded Murphy. "Rumours I understand ... Vague comments I understand .... But it's funny how they don't know you sucked my cock and yet they know every detail about when I sucked yours ... Lazlo told me everything you told Miss. Mooney. How you made me gag the first time. How I asked you to warn me next time. How you held my head and I practically begged you to fuck my mouth because I loved it .... How would they know any of that if you didn't tell her Murphy, because I sure as hell didn't!" He said his voice oddly calm, though he was still clearly angry. 

He backed up and shook his head at Murphy. "Sure ... I could retaliate ... Tell them all the things you did to me ... But do you really think that anyone would believe me if I told them that a tall, good looking man such as yourself would want to put his mouth anywhere near me? ... I'm ugly, I'm disgusting and everyone here knows that, including me .... Not a single person here would believe me. You may believe me deaf to your laughter Murphy, but don't you dare think me stupid." 

Murphy paled when Oswald repeated the details that people knew, eyes wide with shock. How could they have known? He hadn’t told them, and there was no way Oswald would have, so … how? A cold fear began to settle in Murphy’s stomach. “Oswald,” he said quietly, voice shaking. “I think … I think someone’s been spying on us.” But how? And who? And how the hell could he make Oswald believe him, given the circumstances?

Oswald laughed, actually laughed as if what Murphy said was humorous. "God ... You really think I am an idiot. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? We were alone! You won't even apologize for it .... If all I was, was a whore to you why didn't you take my offer right off the bat last night? Why bother playing with my emotions? Was it just a game?" Oswald asked. "I really did hope you were different Murphy ... I really did like you. But new to Gotham or not ... You're just like everyone else." He said heading for the back door. He only had a few more minutes left on his break. 

“Wait,” Murphy stepped in front of Oswald, blocking his path. He folded up the twenty and angrily stuffed it into the lapel pocket of Oswald’s suit jacket. “Whatever you think, I don’t need your charity, and I won’t take handouts from someone who hates me. Now,” he said, staring him down, voice low and angry. “Before you go in, I want names. Everyone who said anything, everyone who knows. Because whether you believe me or not, this was never a game for me. I intend to get to the bottom of this.” There was something akin to murder in his eyes.

After he’d lost everything three times over, he’d somehow, in Gotham of all places, managed to find a chance at having something worthwhile in his life again, with someone just as lonely who needed it just as much as he did. But somebody had decided to ruin that for their own amusement. Even if it was too late to salvage anything, Murphy meant to find out who had done this, and make them pay.

Oswald stared at Murphy and took the twenty out of his pocket. "It doesn't matter." He said throwing the bill at Murphy. "The damage is done ...." He said walking around him to the door. "You know, had you apologized I may have been inclined to forgive you .... I still like you Murphy but you hurt me ... And I don't know if you just can't see that, or if you don't care ... But I'm not playing this game ..." He said grabbing onto the door handle to go back inside. 

Murphy turned as Oswald passed him, pained by the obvious hurt and betrayal in Oswald’s voice. His directionless anger at whoever had done this faded to the background. Oswald had every right to be upset, and Murphy was powerless to comfort him, because all the evidence pointed straight to him as the culprit. How was he going to fix this?

“Oswald, please,” he said, his hand going to Oswald’s shoulder almost involuntarily. “I’m sorry that anything happened to hurt you, but I swear I didn’t do this. I … I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but … I’ll figure out a way to prove it, I promise. Just … just give me the benefit of the doubt for now. That’s all I’m asking.”

"I already gave you the benefit of the doubt Murphy .... Last night. And this morning ... Fool me once ..." He said knowing he didn't have to finish the quote as he went back inside and moved to the bar where Miss. Mooney sat. 

He started wiping out some glasses that had been stacked on the counter as he'd been instructed to do on his return. 

Murphy just stood there for a moment after Oswald went in, staring silently at the door that had closed behind him. The scent of Oswald’s cigarette smoke still lingered in the air, and Murphy took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He was still so angry … though not really at Oswald anymore, just at the situation and whatever bastard was behind it. And there was no way he could even convince Oswald that he was on his side in this. The frustration of knowing that, no matter what he said, Oswald wouldn’t believe him, was overwhelming. And there was no one he could even talk to about it. Nobody here could be trusted. 

He finally went back in, leaving the abandoned twenty where it had fallen. He forced what he hoped was a neutral expression as he went back to the bar and went about his job, trying not to make eye contact with Oswald, who was in such close proximity, under the all-seeing gaze of Miss. Mooney. He could hardly imagine anything more awkward.

Two awkward hours past before Mooney called closing, the few customers who were in the club leaving, a few of them requiring help from their friends. 

"Lazlo, go lock up the rooms upstairs. Murphy and .... You ... Can leave.” She said pointing to the other bartender. The other had left about an hour previous. 

"Oswald, you're on close up ... Make sure the place is spotless then you can lock up and go home. Make sure the lights are all off when you leave." 

Oswald looked down at the ground, nodding nervously. "Yes ma'am." He said as she handed him the keys. 

Murphy nodded. He glanced over at Oswald, feeling bad that he was stuck closing up on top of everything else … but a part of him was relieved that he didn’t have to stay too. As long as Oswald wouldn’t believe a word he said, they had nothing to talk about. He headed to the back room, where he’d stashed his things. Since he didn’t exactly have anywhere else to put his few remaining worldly possessions, he was stuck hauling them to and from work in a blue gym bag. But, since he wasn’t the only one who prefered to change out of their work uniform before going “home,” no one thought anything of it. 

“How come she knows your name already, but not mine?” muttered the other bartender, Ricardo, also going to retrieve some of his belongings from the back.

Murphy shrugged, not much inclined to be sociable at the moment. He still didn’t know which of his coworkers was responsible for Oswald’s humiliation, and anyway, he was pretty sure most of them had been involved in making fun of him, at the very least. “She probably knows,” Murphy said. “She just doesn’t want you to forget that she doesn’t care.”

Murphy took his bag down from one of the shelves, and then stared at it. “Great,” he said with deadpan sarcasm. “Just what I needed.” Someone had taken a permanent marker and scribbled lewd remarks all over his bag, as well as a couple of choice homophobic slurs. He glanced at Ricardo. “You see who did this?”

“Don’t look at me, man,” shrugged Ricardo. “Snitches get stitches. Just be glad I kept them from shoving it in the toilet.”

“God, I hate this town,” Murphy muttered under his breath. At least they hadn’t done anything more to his bag then write on it, but still … He shouldered the gym bag, face neutral as he emerged from the back room, not saying a word or making eye contact with anyone as he walked past Oswald and out of the club. 

Oswald didn't pay any attention to anyone as they left, one of the waiters staying behind to help Oswald clean the tables. Once the tables were clean the waiter left as well leaving Oswald to tend to the rest. 

Oswald spent the next forty minutes cleaning. He still had twenty minutes left on his shift but he was done with everything. 

He sat down at Mooney's usual seat and looked around the club, particularly the ceiling. Just like most establishments in Gotham, Mooney's club had no security cameras. It was odd that Fish trusted him to close when there was nothing to monitor what he was doing. 

Then again, after seeing what she'd done to his landlord she probably knew he was smart enough not to do anything stupid. 

Ever since he came in from his break though something had been bothering him. Why hadn't Murphy just laughed about it ... If he had done it to hurt him why hadn't he just admitted to it? He knew Oswald would find out when he told, so .... Why? His behaviour didn't make sense, even if he had been trying to cover it up ... It just didn't add up. 

Oswald glanced towards the stairs that lead up to the rooms upstairs, the dim light from where he was barely able to cut through the darkness on the stairs now that the upstairs lights had been turned off. 

He stood and moved to the back room and rummaged through a utility drawer. He located a flashlight and moved to the breaker box. He knew this place didn't have a backup generator. Perhaps he was being overly cautious ... But it was better safe than sorry as far as Mooney was concerned. 

He flipped the power off upstairs and moved upstairs flicking on the flashlight as he got to the top. 

He placed the flashlight on his shoulder, holding it between his shoulder and his head as he pulled out a small black leather case from his pocket. 

He pulled out a long, thin, flat piece of metal and another one that was much smaller, more like a metal stick. 

He put the folder back into his pocket and adjusted the flashlight on his shoulder. He slipped the two pieces of metal into the lock, fiddling with it and under a minute the door clicked. 

Oswald smirked as he put the two pieces of metal away and put it back in his pocket, taking the flashlight into his hand as he opened the door. 

He shone the flashlight around the room, looking around. He spent the last twenty minutes of his shift searching the room for anything ... Checked the mirror to see if it was a two way mirror. No, it lifted off the wall. The paintings, no. There were no holes in the walls ... After twenty minutes of searching Oswald sighed. Nothing ... There was no possible way anyone could have seen into the room. 

He even checked the keyhole on the door, the cracks around it. There was no way to see in. 

Oswald was just about to give up and leave when a gleam caught his attention as his flashlight skimmed over it. He walked over to the dresser where a bushy looking plant sat. 

He moved the leaves of the plant and froze. 

They had been filmed .... Someone filmed them .... This was all set up! Murphy hadn't told anyone! 

Murphy was telling the truth. 

Oswald felt his heart fall into his stomach at the realization. He hadn't believed Murphy ... He told him to leave him alone ... 

Oswald backed away from the camera which was silent and still, its little red light off since he'd turned the power off. He sat down on the floor staring at the camera ... Murphy hadn't hurt him ... It was someone else who had told ... Someone had watched ... Someone had heard .... 

Oswald felt like he was going to be sick. Not only did someone watch what had happened, they used it against them .... And he had no doubt that they'd heard what they’d said to each other. 

Oswald took a deep breath as he calmed himself. There was no way Murphy would take him back now ... But still ... He'd have to tell him. He had a right to know. 

Oswald fixed the plant, put the flashlight back but left the power upstairs off. He felt his eyes burning with angry tears as he gathered his things and left, locking up the club behind him.


	10. Where do we go from here?

Chapter 10: Where Do We Go From Here?

Murphy was at the club early the next afternoon, the other bartenders having decreed that it was his turn to go get everything set up. He’d managed to make his appearance neat as always, but his eyes were a little bloodshot from a long, sleepless night. No matter how long he thought about it, he wasn’t any closer than before to figuring out who had done this. He hadn’t really had much of a chance to question anyone last night, and wasn’t sure where to begin with that either. The only specific name Oswald had mentioned was Lazlo’s, and Murphy doubted Lazlo actually knew who had started all this. And even if he chased down that lead, he was going to have a hell of a time trying to get anything out of anyone without getting into trouble for running around threatening his fellow employees. In a couple of hours, he was going to have to face Oswald with nothing to back up his claim, to see the look of hurt in his eyes again and be unable to do anything about it.

Oswald wasn't scheduled to start for another five hours yet but as Murphy was setting up, the staff door jiggled before there was a knock on the door. 

Murphy glanced over his shoulder as someone tried to open the staff door, and then went to go answer it, opening it just a crack at first, his shoulder blocking the way. Sure, it was still broad daylight and most people were too scared of Fish Mooney to try anything, but Gotham was still Gotham, and the last thing Murphy needed right now was a robbery at Mooney’s place on his watch. When he saw that it was Oswald standing there, he stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way.

“Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were coming in early.” He felt stupid for even talking to him; Oswald had made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with him. Murphy quickly turned to go finish unstacking the chairs.

Oswald came in and shut the door behind him. "I'm not coming in early. I came to talk to you." Oswald said nervously. To be honest he hadn't slept all night. He'd been too scared thinking about how Murphy would react, wondering if he should tell him, wondering if he should keep it with him breaking it off (whatever it was), instead of giving Murphy the chance to hurt him again. 

Murphy froze, then turned back to look at Oswald. “You … wanted to talk to me?” he repeated uncertainly. Why? After what Oswald thought he’d done? Murphy kept his expression neutral, unable to predict where this was going.

Oswald walked towards the stairs. "Come here." Oswald said simply before heading up the stairs. 

“Um … okay,” said Murphy, tentatively following Oswald up the stairs. Why exactly did Oswald want him to go upstairs with him? He highly doubted that it was for a repeat of the other night. Even though Oswald was a much smaller man than he was, he couldn’t help thinking that following a man who thought you’d wronged him anywhere alone was a really questionable decision. “Mind telling me what this is about?” he asked.

Oswald didn't say anything as he entered the room they had been in. Once he let Murphy pass him he pointed at the plant on the dresser. 

"I thought you had a right to know." He said. Before Murphy could even investigate to see what it was, Oswald slipped out of the room and headed down the stairs. 

Murphy stared after Oswald as he walked out of the room, more confused now than ever. Then he turned his attention back to the plant. He took a closer look, moving some of the leaves aside to see what Oswald was so worked up about … And there, gleaming back at him, was a small camera. Murphy stared at the camera for a long moment. This … this was terrible. Whoever had viewed the footage, they could have seen everything. And heard everything. And they clearly had no regard for Oswald’s dignity. But then, this also meant…

Murphy left the room and ran back down the stairs.

“So, you believe me now, right?” he asked, full of a bizarre mixture of hope and horror. Oswald paused in the middle of the room on his way to the door as Murphy chased after him down the stairs. 

Oswald stared at the floor and laughed hollowly. "Yeah ... I believe you." 'Not that it matters now.' He added internally before he kept going towards the door. 

“Wait,” Murphy said, going after him. “Is… is that it, then? You’re seriously going to just show me that and then leave?” He didn’t understand. If Oswald believed him, then why was he still not talking to him?

"Murphy, we both know you don't want anything to do with me. I burned that bridge last night ... I don't trust people and I still have a hard time trusting you ... It's simply in my nature I can't change that ..." He said. "Find someone who isn't already broken." He said reaching the door. 

Murphy reached Oswald just as Oswald reached the door. He pulled on Oswald’s shoulder, turning him around to face him. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want,” he said. “If you’re not interested anymore that’s one thing, but I can make my own decisions.” Then, before he could think better of it, he leaned forward and kissed him.

Oswald froze, his eyes wide in shock as Murphy kissed him. Without responding he backed up, breaking the kiss. "W- .... What are you doing Murphy?" He asked, his eyes starting to water. 

“I’m sorry,” said Murphy, letting Oswald back up, confused by seeing his eyes start to tear up. “I just… assumed things were okay now, that we could still be together. Is… is that not what you want?”

Oswald stared at him, a tear falling from his watering eyes. "I ...." He looked away from Murphy. "I don't know what I want ...." He said turning away from him again. "And I don't think you know what you want either. I ... I think we both need time to think about this." 

Murphy shook his head. “If you need time to think, that’s … that’s fine,” he said, reminding himself that he couldn’t expect Oswald to come to terms with his sexuality overnight. The way their coworkers were treating him couldn’t be making it any easier either. “But let me make one thing very clear. I know exactly what I want, Oswald. I want you, insecurities and all. I want to do whatever it takes to show you that you can trust me. I want to do a long list of other things to you as well …” He paused. “Though not in that room again, obviously. On that note, I also want to put the fear of God into whoever leaked the details, and pretty much anyone else who tries to mess with you … But I’m willing to start with reasonable goals, to just find out what this is and see where it goes.” He made himself stop; he’d probably said too much already, and he didn’t want to overwhelm the guy. 

Oswald remained unmoving, unable to look at Murphy. He wanted him? Why? Oswald couldn't understand ... Couldn’t fathom what Murphy could want from him. 

"What do you want from this, Murphy?" Oswald asked, scared of what Murphy would say. "What do you want from me?" 

Murphy was quiet for a moment. What could he really expect from this? How exactly did he think this could end up? He was a man with no future and no experience at surviving in Gotham, running around with a made-up name. If they stayed together long enough, sooner or later, Oswald would have to find that out, and the poor guy had big enough trust issues to begin with. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t make any grand promises about the future, but … for now, he needed this, and he had a strong feeling that Oswald needed it too.

“I … I want to be with you,” said Murphy. “In whatever capacity you’re willing to have me. Even though the aftermath was kind of disastrous, I think we both thoroughly enjoyed our time together the other night, so … the physical element’s definitely there. But … I … want to actually get to know you better too. If you’re up for it, I’d … like to try to turn this into a relationship. The future seems pretty uncertain for both of us, so I’m not asking you for anything longterm, and no pressure if you’re just not interested, but …” he shrugged. “It … just feels right to me.”

Oswald nodded still not looking at Murphy. "Why? Why me though? You're a good-looking man, you could have your pick of the litter. Why go for the ugly runt?" Oswald still couldn't understand. The only person who had ever cared about him was his mother, and she was so blind as far as he was concerned, he didn't exactly trust her opinion of his person. 

Murphy winced. He already hated the things Oswald said about himself … since Oswald so clearly seemed to believe it. “You have got to stop listening to people who are clearly assholes,” Murphy sighed. “I don’t see you that way, okay? I like you. Isn’t that reason enough?”

Oswald glanced up at Murphy before looking back down. No, that wasn't a good enough reason. Oswald still couldn't understand, and he hated not understanding. It was easier when he knew everyone hated him. When everyone made fun of him. At least then he didn't have to let anyone in. Didn't have to take down the walls he'd built around himself ... 

"You have work to do." He said wanting to at least try to get a few hours sleep before his shift started at five. "I'll see you later Murphy." He said hollowly, turning to the door again. 

“Right,” Murphy said reluctantly, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Just … just think about it, okay?”

Oswald left without another word and headed home.


	11. Miss. Mooney is not Amused

Chapter 11: Miss Mooney is Not Amused

"Oswald." Mooney said pleasantly as Oswald walked into the door. "Just the man I was looking for. We have a few minutes to open I'd like to have a word with you and Murphy here." She said moving over to the table where she usually sat. 

Oswald looked over at Murphy, fear clear in his eyes though he did a decent enough job of hiding it almost as soon as it happened. 

Murphy met Oswald’s fearful glance for an instant before looking away. There were one or two things Murphy could think of that this might be about, and none of them were good. Even as uneasy as he was, though, he couldn’t help feeling impressed by how quickly Oswald hid his fear. Murphy could only hope to be so convincing. “Yes, Miss. Mooney,” said Murphy brightly, going over to her as if nothing were wrong. 

Oswald followed behind Murphy and stood in front of Miss. Mooney who was relaxing in her chair, her elbows up on the back as she regarded them. 

"Now, I strictly recall asking Lazlo to lock up upstairs last night ... And I do recall checking the doors before I left .... Now Lazlo told me something a bit interesting just now." She said. Oswald felt his entire body go numb with nerves as she spoke, the colour draining from his face. "He tells me that the room you stayed in the other night was unlocked this morning. I know neither of you have keys so how is it that the door came to be unlocked?" 

Murphy thought he understood what had happened. Oswald must have felt the need to go snooping around up there last night looking for some clue that they’d been watched … which meant that, on at least some level, Oswald had given him the benefit of the doubt even then … and had picked the lock to do it. That really wouldn’t go well with Miss. Mooney, especially not for her personal servant Oswald after she’d given him the responsibility of closing on his own. Oswald had been taking enough punishment lately already.

Oswald knew he was in trouble. He couldn't even think of a reason for needing to be in there. 

"I-" 

“I did it,” said Murphy, before Oswald could get another word out. He met Miss. Mooney’s eyes with a penitent look. “I couldn’t find my wallet, and I thought I might have left it in there, so … I picked the lock … which I shouldn’t have done. I didn’t mean any disrespect by it, but … it was still a stupid thing to do.”

Fish watched him, a look of amusement on her face. "Lost your wallet?" She asked. "And you didn't notice until over twenty four hours later?" She asked. "Do you know what the punishment for lying is boy?" She asked. 

Murphy felt cold under Mooney’s penetrating gaze. “No, ma’am,” he said resignedly. “Though I guess I’m about to find out.” As long as she just thought he was lying about his reason for being up there, and not about being the one who did it in the first place. As long as he could protect Oswald … And as long as, whatever else happened, Miss. Mooney didn’t fire him. He got the impression that she was more creative than that, though. Admittedly, that probably didn’t bode well for him either. 

"Oswald ..." Mooney said turning to him. Oswald nearly jumped at the sound of his name. "Is Murphy telling the truth?" She asked. 

Oswald opened his mouth to talk. He wasn't sure how to answer. He felt like no matter what he said he'd be damned. 

He looked to Murphy, not able to believe that Murphy would lie for him. 

"Don't look at him boy, you're talking to me." Mooney said. 

"I-I-I ... I don't know ma'am." He said nervously. "I-" 

"So you didn't go into that room last night on your closing shift?" She asked. 

"I ... No ma'am." He said nervously. 

Mooney regarded both of them. 

"Well now .... It seems we have a couple of liars here. I happen to know, Oswald, that you went into that room last night." She said leaning back and seeing the horrified look on Oswald's face. "Now ... What to do with a couple of liars." She said as if thinking out loud. 

Shit. All Murphy had managed to do was get them both into trouble. If he’d let Oswald speak, maybe he would have handled this better than Murphy had. He glanced apologetically over at Oswald while awaiting Fish’s verdict.

"Butch ..." Fish called over to him. "Take Murphy outside .... Show him what we do with liars." She said. "I have a special punishment in mind for Oswald here." 

Murphy looked over at Oswald in alarm. What exactly was she going to do to Oswald? Hadn’t he been through enough in the past few days? He had to hand it to her, though; this was a pretty devious move. If they were separated, they couldn’t even give each other moral support. Murphy didn’t waste energy resisting, though, as Butch roughly grabbed his shoulder and steered him toward the back door, a couple of the other hired security following behind. He’d already made things worse once, and there wasn’t a thing either of them could do about this.

Once Butch dragged Murphy outside, Mooney smiled at two of her customers as they started to filter into the club. "Tony! Deebo!" She said walking up to the two big men in greeting. "I have a surprise for you and your boys!" She said with a smile on her face. Oswald didn't know what Mooney was doing, or if this even applied to him, but he knew whatever his punishment was, it was going to be bad. 

"Oswald, go to the room you and Murphy had ... Had some fun in .... Your punishment will be right up." She turned back to Tony before pausing and turning back to Oswald. "Oh and Oswald .... Make sure you remove your suit before they get up there ... It's a nice suit." She said making Oswald shake with fear. He instantly thought about quitting ... Running .... But he had nowhere else to go. No other job to fall back on. The streets would be worse when they lost their apartment. 

"Y-y-yes ... M-miss Mooney." He said stuttering more than usual before he headed upstairs. 

\------ 

Oswald couldn't stop himself from shaking as he came down the stairs, Tony, Deebo and their buddies coming down the stairs behind him Deebo clapping him on the back so hard he nearly fell forward. The men walked over to the table. 

"Go home Oswald ... Don't come back tomorrow. I expect you here on Saturday. There'll be a mess I need cleaned up." She said not even bothering to look at him. 

"Y-yes Miss. Mooney." He said, his hands held loosely at his sides despite his shaking. "Is ... Is Murphy still here?" Oswald asked. 

"Outside ... His punishment was over hours ago ... Take him with you." Mooney said as her waiter poured her another drink. 

Oswald nodded and moved to the back door. He saw Murphy sitting against the wall of the alley and slowly walked up to him, his entire body aching. 

Murphy had been sitting slumped in the alleyway for … he wasn’t sure how long now, in enough pain that getting up just didn’t seem worth it. He’d only be moving from one street to another anyway … albeit to one where no one really bothered him. He was bruised and bloody all over, plus scraped up from the times he’d fallen, and the pain in his chest felt suspiciously like a cracked rib. At least he didn’t think he’d lost any teeth … which was remarkable, given the strong taste of blood in his mouth. His gym bag was lying a few feet away; one of the other bartenders, Ricardo, had snuck away to toss it out after him. He decided he hated that guy slightly less than he hated just about everyone else here.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Murphy flinched, and looked up, then relaxed slightly when he saw who it was. “You alright?” he asked hoarsely, looking over Oswald for any signs of injury. He didn’t see any, but … that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “What did she do?”

"Well I'm looking a tad bit better than you are at the moment." He said half joking as he forced himself to stop shaking. "And she didn't do anything." Technically not a lie. Mooney hadn't done anything. Tony and his boys did. "Come on ... I'll help you home. Where do you live?" He asked reaching to help Murphy off the ground. 

Murphy’s shoulders went rigid, and he stared up at Oswald with some degree of anxiety. There was no way Miss. Mooney hadn’t done anything to Oswald; she’d never just let something like this go. So, what had happened to Oswald that was so terrible that he wouldn’t even say it? Especially after all the traumatic things he’d told Murphy before? On a more immediate note, though, what was he going to tell Oswald?

“Oh, I’m fine,” Murphy forced a smile. “You should see the other guy. Pretty sure Butch threw out his shoulder beating the crap out of me, so … I sure showed him.” He took Oswald’s hand, and but made himself take on the majority of his own weight as he got up, wincing and gritting his teeth at the pain. Once he was on his feet, though, he faltered slightly, leaning against the alley wall. He’d apparently twisted his left ankle when he’d fallen. “Seriously, though,” he said, looking at Oswald. “I’m fine. I’ll make it home on my own okay. But thanks for the offer, though.”

Oswald shook his head and stepped back. "Yeah?" He asked once he was about five feet away. "Walk to me." 

Murphy glared at Oswald. “I’d think I would know if I could walk or not,” he said. Still, he knew Oswald wouldn’t leave him alone about it unless he proved it. He reluctantly stopped leaning against the wall, and forced himself to take a step, involuntarily hissing out a curse when he put weight on his left foot. He made himself take a couple more limping steps, putting as little weight on that foot as possible. “See?” He said stubbornly. “I’m fine. I just need to walk it off.”

Oswald shook his head. "Okay, enough." He said putting his arm around him so he wasn't putting as much weight on his left foot. It was awkward due to their height difference, but it would have to do. 

"I'm helping you home whether you like it or not ..." He said putting his foot down. "Now tell me where it is or I'll drag you back into the club and ask Mooney! Now I don't know about you, but I'd rather not face her again tonight!" 

Murphy’s face went pale. “No!” he said quickly. “Don’t go to Mooney. She … she doesn’t know anyway.” And he didn’t want her to, or anyone else in the club for that matter. He didn’t even want Oswald to know. Beyond that, he didn’t want Fish prying into the circumstances that had led to this either. He tried to pull away from Oswald, but wobbled unsteadily, and ended up leaning on him even more. It was beyond pathetic.

"Murphy, enough with the tough guy act! I'm taking you home, that is that!" Oswald said getting angry. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed ... But he couldn't do that if he just left Murphy here on the street. 

Murphy froze, and turned his head away from Oswald, staring down at the ground. 

“Oswald, I … There’s … kind of a problem with that,” he said very quietly.

Oswald refrained from groaning. "It's Gotham, there's always a problem." He said putting his arm around Murphy again. "Just tell me where to go because I want to get away from here." 

Murphy could feel Oswald growing impatient with him. He still really, really didn’t want to discuss this, but there was no way around it anymore. “No, it’s not … It’s …” He took a deep breath, still not looking up, then said: “Look … I arrived in Gotham with nothing, and pretty much immediately got into some debt, let’s not talk about why. But he collects anything I have as soon as I get it, so … so I don’t …” He swallowed. The act of saying this out loud was somehow physically difficult. His voice came out barely above a whisper when he finally did. “I don’t … technically have a home right now.”

Oswald heard a click of the back door and turned to see Gilzean coming out back on his break. He sneered at him and put his arm around Murphy again. 

"Hey Oswald ... You're still here ... I think the boys are itching for another go if you're interested." He said with a laugh. Oswald felt like he was going to be sick as he practically dragged Murphy out of the alley. 

"Let's go." Oswald hissed at him, wishing they'd gotten out of the alley sooner. 

Murphy felt numb as Oswald dragged him away, trying to process what Gilzean had just said. “Oswald …” he said slowly, dread starting to sink in through the shock. “What was he talking about?”

"Don't worry about it." He said angrily and feeling quite a bit nauseous. "I'm taking you to my place. You need somewhere to stay while you heal." He said helping Murphy down the street to a busier street. 

Murphy looked up from the ground for the first time since this conversation had started, turning his head to glance over at Oswald. “Oswald, you’d don’t have to do that,” he said. He felt like such a useless burden. “Are… are you sure that’s okay? Would your mother be alright with that?”

"Do we have a choice?" Oswald asked sounding rather angry though his anger wasn't directed at Murphy. Once they reached the busier street Oswald tried to hail down a cab. 

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble,” Murphy said, looking away again. “I owe you for this, Oswald.” This was all wrong. He should be comforting Oswald after whatever fucked up ordeal Fish had just put him through. He should be chasing Gilzean down and demanding to know exactly what he meant, exactly who was involved, and then making them pay for … for whatever they’d done. But instead, he was completely useless, barely able to even walk, having to invade Oswald’s home because he was too much of a failure now to even keep a roof over his head. No wonder Oswald sounded angry.

After the fifth attempt Oswald finally managed to catch a cab, helping Murphy inside. He gave the cab driver the address. The ride was less than ten minutes. Oswald didn't even bother arguing with the cab driver who overcharged him. He paid the driver, helped Murphy clumsily out of the car. "We live on the second floor ... Unfortunately we don't have an elevator." He said as he pressed the code into the security pad which Oswald barely noticed seemed to have been replaced. The door clicked open on the first try. And they headed towards the stairs. 

Murphy’s only answer was a resigned nod. Given Oswald’s generosity at the moment, he didn’t really feel like he was in a position to complain about the architecture. He could handle stairs. Probably. When they reached the stairs, he was forced to lean heavily on Oswald on one side, gripping the railing with his other hand, wincing with each step.

Once they reached the second level Oswald banged heavily on the door. He didn't even have to knock a second time as Gertrude came rushing to the door. 

Gertrude squeaked in surprise at the sight of Murphy, looking at her son who seemed to be struggling to stay standing himself. 

"Mein Gott." She gasped. "What happened?" She asked as she pulled the door open. 

"We got off work at the same time. Murphy was going to walk me home and we got jumped." He said helping Murphy to the couch as his mother ran to the bathroom for the first aid kit. 

“I’m really sorry to impose like this,” Murphy winced slightly as he collapsed on the couch. The stairs had really taken it out of him.

"Nein," She said putting the first aid kit on the couch as Oswald sat down in the chair. She handed Oswald a cloth. "Oswald, go get some ice." She instructed him. Oswald took the cloth and stiffly walked to the kitchen to collect some ice from the freezer. When he came back his mother was helping Murphy clean up and disinfect the wounds she could see. 

"Murphy’s going to stay here awhile." Oswald said handing the homemade ice pack to Murphy and sitting back down again on the chair. "He just moved to Gotham and doesn't have anywhere to stay." 

"Ja, ja," Gertrude said fussing over Murphy. "You stay as long as you like dear." She said patting Murphy's hand.

“Thank you,” Murphy said, more than a little embarrassed by all of the fuss. He took the ice pack gratefully, and applied it to his twisted ankle. Just about everything else hurt too, but if he could keep the swelling in his ankle to a minimum, he’d be on his feet again sooner, and wouldn’t be so useless. “You … have no idea how much I appreciate this.” He was still ashamed that Oswald knew he was currently homeless, and he hated to inconvenience them like this, but … it was starting to sink in that he wouldn’t have to spend another night on the street. He couldn’t even begin to think of a way to repay them for that.

Gertrude packed up the first aid kit again and handed it to Oswald. "You take it easy on your ankle, you take Oswald's bed tonight." She said as Oswald looked up at her. "Oswald will be okay on the couch." She said moving to Oswald. "Are you okay? You weren't hurt?" 

Oswald forced a smile on his face. "No. Murphy saved me." He said though he wondered if Murphy lying had resulted in the punishment he received ... If they'd been honest maybe .... "I'm fine mom." 

"Such a good boy." She said touching Oswald's chin. 

"It’s Thursday mom. You should get going, you're going to be late." Oswald said. Gertrude stood from where she was. 

"No, no. You boys need me. I-" 

"Mom. We'll be fine ... Besides you can't call Aunty Edith she doesn't have a phone. If you don't go she'll worry." Oswald said standing up and handing her her purse.

"Oh ..." She said looking between the two worried. 

"Mom ... I'm home ... I'm safe ... I'll lock the door, you have your key it's fine ... I think we just want to get some sleep right now." He said. 

Gertrude looked up at Oswald and patted his cheek. "Alright ... If you insist." She said, heading towards the door to put her shoes on. 

Murphy felt a stab of guilt at Oswald’s claim that he’d ‘saved’ him. Because of course, he hadn’t. He’d tried, but had completely failed. For all he knew, he might have even made things worse. He tried to push back his disturbing suspicions about what exactly had happened to Oswald while Murphy was being beaten in the alleyway. Whatever it was, though, he was afraid that it was his fault.


	12. One Day, You'll see.

Chapter 12: One Day You’ll See

“Your mom seems really nice,” Murphy said after a moment. “But there’s no way I could take your bed, though. The couch is fine. Seriously, it’s a huge improvement over where I was sleeping before.”

"You're not sleeping on that antique love seat, it's not large enough and your ankle won't heal properly." Oswald said standing up to help Murphy up and to his small bedroom. 

Murphy had to admit Oswald had a point. “Again, thank you,” he said quietly. He accepted Oswald’s help getting up, wincing as he did, and let himself be led to Oswald’s room. He looked around the small room, then said hesitantly: “I … I’m sorry if I made things worse.” 

Oswald didn't say anything for a few moments as he helped Murphy to bed. "I ... I doubt the punishment would have been different had we told the truth ... The only thing that changed is you got punished as well." He said helping Murphy with the thin patched up blanket. "You ...." Oswald paused unable to look at Murphy. "You tried to help me ... It's more than anyone's ever done for me before." He said before turning to his dresser and pulling out a pair of loose fitting shorts. 

“Maybe,” said Murphy uncertainly, climbing into bed. He couldn’t tell whether Oswald was just saying that to make him feel better. “But it was a pretty clumsy attempt on my part. I actually used to be pretty good at helping people, believe it or not.” But now all he seemed to do was mess things up. He couldn’t even seem to help himself. The most he’d managed to accomplish on Oswald’s behalf was to end up imposing on him and his mother for hospitality and medical attention. “Are … are you really okay, though?” he asked seriously, watching Oswald’s face closely. Oswald froze at the question, he hated how many times he was being asked that, the more he was asked the harder it was to lie. He nodded slightly unable to get himself to speak. 

"I'm going to go take a bath." He said grabbing his towel off the hook on the back of his door and heading towards the bathroom just outside his bedroom door. 

“Alright, then,” Murphy nodded. Under other circumstances, he might have half-jokingly asked if Oswald wanted him to join him … but right now, he very clearly wanted to be alone. It was becoming more and more obvious that something was seriously bothering him. If he didn’t want to talk about it, though, Murphy thought it was best not to press any further … but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He settled down under the covers, staunchly minding his own business.

Oswald closed his bedroom door leaving Murphy inside and pulled off his suit and trying to block out the memory of when he'd taken it off earlier that afternoon. He hung it on the hanger and hung it on the coat rack, putting on the shorts as he put the stopper in the tub and turned the hot water on. He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket along with his banged up zippo and opened the bathroom window. He sat below it as he put the cigarette in his mouth as he listened to the running water. He flicked the lighter open and light the cigarette with shaking hands. 

He sat there quietly for a few minutes, the cigarette burning but he didn't take more than a few puffs. He could feel the emotions he'd been hiding all night building up inside of him ... Felt like he was going to explode. But Murphy was in the other room and he had no doubt he'd be able to hear him if he did. 

He furiously wiped away the tears that were threatening to spill over and moved to the bathtub which had been draining into the hole at the top for some time now. He turned the water off, hissing as he touched the water. It was hot ... 

He sat back down on the floor again, leaning against the bathroom sink as tears started falling down his cheeks, unable to stop them any further. Oswald tried to take another drag of his cigarette but his hand stopped halfway up and he threw it to the bathroom floor. There was nothing left but the filter anyway ... Had he really been sitting there that long? 

Oswald pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them to him as he buried his face in his arms, giving in to his emotions, allowing himself to cry. Oswald's body was shaking so badly but at the same time he felt like he wasn't shaking enough ... Like his body was physically restricting him from getting his emotions out ... 

He gasped for breath as he tried to calm himself, his chest hurting from hyperventilating ... 

'Calm down ...' Oswald thought. 'Calm down ...' He thought leaning his head back against the sink. He looked around the bathroom, feeling exposed out here in the bathroom which was wide open to the rest of the apartment ... But he couldn't go back to his room. His sanctuary ... Murphy was in there .... Why did he have to bring Murphy with him? Why couldn't he have taken him to a motel or something .... 

Oswald groaned in frustration before lashing out at the only person in the room ... Himself. He stopped a moment later, his head and his knuckles hurting, and looked down at his hands before resting his head against the sink again.

It wasn't Murphy's fault. Oswald forced himself to get up, forced himself to move to the bathtub and put his hand into the water. It was still hot .... 

He took his shorts off and paused when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He had bruises in the shape of handprints on his hips, lines bruised around his wrists. He looked away from his reflection feeling more dirty now in the aftermath ... How could Murphy want him now? 

Oswald climbed into the bathtub hissing at how hot the water is, but forced himself to go into the water until he was submerged to his neck. 

He took the bar of soap and the scrubber, trying to wash every bit of him that he could get to. Tried to wash away the feeling of their hands on him, but he knew that feeling couldn't be washed away. He scrubbed at himself until his skin was raw and the water was cold and still it didn't feel like it was enough. Oswald's hands dropped into the water as he sat there, tears running down his face again as he stared down at the water. He was shivering by the time he pulled himself out, the water freezing, grabbed his towel and dried himself off. 

He managed to get himself back under control by the time he put his shorts back on. He took a deep steadying breath as he left the bathroom and went into the living room. 

On the other side of the thin apartment walls, Murphy could hear everything. The inconsolable sobbing, the gasping and hyperventilating … everything. There was no doubt in Murphy’s mind, as he lay there listening, about what had happened. His stomach twisted into sickening knots, at the thought of what Oswald must be feeling, that someone could do that to him … He wanted to get up and go in there and just hold him, but knew that was probably a bad idea. 

The last thing Oswald needed right now was another man invading his personal space uninvited. He’d intentionally gone off to be alone, and Murphy needed to respect that … But he hated that there was nothing he could do to help, to take that anguish away. Just like he’d failed to keep it from happening in the first place. His eyes teared up just from listening to the sobs on the other side of the wall, and his hands clenched into tight fists until his nails dug into the palms of his hands. He wanted so badly to find out exactly who had done this to Oswald, and he wanted to hurt them so bad that they were terrified to ever even think about touching Oswald again … But if Fish Mooney herself had ordered this, then … what could either of them do? And even if he could just go on the warpath, damn all the consequences, it still wouldn’t undo what had happened.

As he heard the water start to drain from the tub, Murphy lay very still and quiet, unsure what to do, not wanting to further humiliate Oswald by letting on that he’d heard.

Oswald stared at the couch for a moment before slowly moving to his bedroom ... When he got there he saw that despite the light still being on Murphy was laying on his side against the far wall, his eyes closed and unmoving. He knew he wasn't asleep yet ... He knew Murphy had heard everything. 

He slowly walked to the double bed and looked down at Murphy. Was he faking being asleep because he didn't want him there? Did he want to be left alone? 

Murphy heard Oswald walk into the room, could feel his presence next to the bed, his eyes fixed upon him. Murphy opened his eyes, and looked back up at him. He didn’t know what to say. Words felt completely useless in this situation. Instead, he wordlessly moved over to make room, looking up at Oswald questioningly, wondering if the gesture would be at all helpful. But if Oswald had come in here, maybe he wanted to be near him right now.

Oswald backed up slightly, his one foot back as if wanting to bolt from the room. He stared at the spot on the bed where Murphy had moved from to make room for him. He thought back to the other night when he'd slept with Murphy. How safe he'd felt ... How good he felt and Oswald seemed to relax a bit. 

He moved forward again and climbed into bed, crawling under the covers next to Murphy, his hand carefully on Murphy's chest. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly it was barely audible. 

Murphy gently put his arms around Oswald and held him close, wishing intensely that he could just absorb all the pain and fear Oswald was feeling until none of it was left, or wishing that by simply wrapping his arms around him, he could somehow protect him from everything out there that could ever hurt him. But both of those things were impossible. He’d seen a glimpse of Oswald’s bruises before he climbed into bed with him. If Murphy ever found out who did this … He doubted he’d be able to stop himself from doing something reckless in retaliation.

In response to Oswald’s apology, Murphy shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m here for you, okay? You’re … you’re not alone.”

"I'm always alone." Oswald said before he could stop himself. 

“Not anymore,” Murphy said softly, and kissed him gently on the forehead.

"Promise me Murphy ... That you won't do anything stupid." He said looking up at Murphy. 

Murphy tensed slightly. Given his track record … Could he really be sure? Lately, he’d become very aware of exactly what he was capable of, if driven to it, and that knowledge terrified him. If he found out who had done this … would he really be able to hold himself back? But … no, this was different. He wasn’t the only one left to face the consequences of his actions. If he did something stupid, Oswald might get hurt as a result. He couldn’t risk that happening. 

“I… I promise,” he whispered. “But only for you.” 

Oswald looked back down and nodded. "Thank you ..." Oswald said. "Because whatever happens ... I want to be the one that does it." He said quietly. "Mooney's not going to get away with this ... I can't do anything now but ... One day ... You'll see." He said looking back up at Murphy. "I'm going to hit her where it hurts ... I'm going to take everything from her." 

Murphy looked down at Oswald, and saw the determination in his eyes, that strength and resolve that nobody else ever seemed to notice. And in that moment, it didn’t matter who Oswald was going up against, or how long it took, or how the cards were stacked against him. Murphy believed that he could win. “I want to be standing by your side when that happens,” he said.

"If you'd be loyal to me ... I'd want you at my side." He said not looking up at him, still scared Murphy would reject him. But he begged ... No, for the first time in Oswald's life ... He prayed, that Murphy would be with him still when that day came.


	13. This raises a few questions

Chapter 13: This Raises A Few Questions

When Gertrude came home, she found the couch empty in the dim rays of the early morning light. Frowning, she went to go peer into Oswald’s room, where she found her Oswald sleeping next to that man, Murphy, no distance at all between them, both of them half-dressed. Murphy’s arm was around him. Gertrude scowled. It … probably wasn’t anything like that, of course. Her Oswald was a good, clean boy; he would never be interested in such filthy things. They had probably fallen asleep like that by accident. But still…

“This is most inappropriate,” she said, in a scolding tone that made Murphy instantly jump awake.

He blinked up at Gertrude. Then looked over at Oswald and realized his arm was still around him. Immediately, he pulled away from Oswald, then tapped him gently on the shoulder, trying to wake him. “Um… Oswald? Your mom wants to talk to you…” He really wasn’t sure what the best thing to say to her was, and didn’t want to make this any more awkward than it already was.

“You are two grown men,” said Gertrude primly. “You cannot be falling asleep together like that; people would think things.”

“Um … yes ma’am, sorry,” said Murphy. “We were just talking and were so tired we must have fallen asleep by accident. It won’t happen again.” At least, hopefully, the part where Oswald’s mother walked in on them wouldn’t happen again, anyway. He could feel his face reddening slightly. This reminded him uncomfortably of the time his grandmother had walked in on him back when he was a teenager. Of all the ways of coming out to one’s family, it was far from preferable.

Oswald opened his eyes tiredly and looked at his mother a moment before his eyes widened in surprise. He sat up and grabbed part of the blanket to hide the tent in his shorts he'd woken up with. 

"Mother!" Oswald said shocked. 

“Oswald, you cannot be falling asleep next to other men like this,” said Gertrude sternly. “I am sure it is all quite innocent as your friend says, but at your age, it is still inappropriate.”

Oswald was confused for a moment .... Innocent? Of course it had been innocent last night, Murphy was injured ... But of course once again his mother couldn't see what was right in front of her eyes. 

"Mother, haven't I asked you not to come barging into my room?" He asked sounding annoyed as he rubbed his hand over his face. 

Gertrude shook her head. “I am your mother, Oswald; I have to make sure you are alright. You must both make sure that this does not happen again,” she gave Murphy a pointed look.

Murphy nodded. “Yes ma’am,” he repeated. “It won’t.”

“You should both get dressed,” said Gertrude. “I will go make some breakfast.”

Oswald glared at his mother as she left and sighed. He stood up, tossing his corner of the blanket back onto the bed. 

"Sorry." Oswald muttered as grabbed some clothes from his dresser. He left the room, allowing Murphy to dress in private. 

Murphy shook his head. “It’s fine,” he muttered back. It was awkward, sure, but … given the circumstances, it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it could have been. Oswald hadn’t been kidding about just how blind his mother could be where he was concerned. Still … he wasn’t sure if she was completely oblivious this time. The whole situation was weird. 

He got up, wincing slightly, and made his way over to his gym bag, retrieving and pulling on a blue t-shirt and some jeans. It was a good thing Gertrude didn’t seem to have noticed the bag. If she’d seen what their coworkers had graffitied onto the bag, she’d know that people were already starting to ‘think the wrong thing’ … or the right thing, more accurately. He shoved the bag under the bed, and then made his way to the door. Everything still hurt. Though none of the injuries were as fresh as they’d been yesterday, he was incredibly stiff and sore. Still, his foot wasn’t nearly as bad off, and he was already limping less than yesterday. Being able to sleep in a bed had been an absolute godsend; if he’d had to spend last night on the street, he’d be in a really miserable state right now.

Once Oswald finished dressing in the bathroom he headed out to the kitchen where she was making a pot of bland oatmeal from the food donations place down the street. Oswald blushed ... He always hated admitting how poor they were and Oswald had yet to be paid yet .... God had it only been three days? Three days and he's only managed to work one full shift .... 

This job would be the death of him if he continued with this track record. 

Arriving in the kitchen, Murphy saw Oswald blush, and managed to piece together why. Of course; Oswald had only been working for Fish Mooney for a couple of days, and hadn’t gotten paid yet … and after the week they’d both had, his paycheck would be slim when he did. Murphy had his own concerns about that. Thinking about it, he felt guilty. Looking back, he felt bad about assuming the worst when Oswald had left that twenty-dollar bill on the nightstand. He now saw the gesture for what it was: just one poor man helping out another. On top of that, Oswald and his mother had just taken him into their home without a second thought, when they were just barely getting by themselves … and right now, there wasn’t really anything he could even contribute.

“Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

"Sit." Gertrude insisted. "Men do not do the cooking." She said as Oswald poured some water into his glass. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Murphy said, sitting down next to Oswald. Gertrude, apparently, was very traditional. Either that, or after what she’d just seen, she just found falling back on traditional gender roles comforting. Regardless of the reason, Murphy wasn’t going to argue with her. It was still weird for him, though, to just sit down while someone else did all the work.

Gertrude served three small bowls of the plain oatmeal and sat down as Oswald picked up his spoon and started picking at the thick substance that barely passed off as food. 

Murphy thanked Gertrude and picked up his spoon, not even waiting for the oatmeal to cool slightly before digging in, only making himself slow down enough for the sake of decent table manners, and even then it required an immense amount of self control. He didn’t care if it was bland; it was what was available, and he was grateful for it. With everything that had happened since yesterday, he’d managed to forget just how hungry he was. But, now that he thought of it, he hadn’t eaten in well over 24 hours, and hadn’t eaten anything hot since … he wasn’t sure when at this point.

They sat in silence as they ate, Oswald slowly picking away at his food. Oswald was half done when his mother finally spoke. 

"So you work with my Oswald?" She asked. "At this ... Nightclub. What is it you do?" 

“I’m a bartender,” said Murphy. “Though I haven’t been working there very long myself.”

"Do you get off at the same time?" Gertrude ask. "It would be safer for you boys if you walked home together, ja?" 

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Murphy, glancing over at Oswald. “Sometimes I get off work a little earlier than Oswald, but I think it would be safer to wait and go home together.”

"Oswald you go with Murphy home." She said putting her hand on his. Oswald forced a smile on his face. 

"Of course mother." He hated so much that she thought he couldn't take care of himself. 

Murphy noticed Oswald’s discomfort, and thought he understood why. He gave Oswald an apologetic look, then said: “It’s just a precaution, though, really. Oswald has a good head on his shoulders, and knows Gotham a lot better than I do.”

"Still," Gertrude said collecting their bowls. "My Oswald is such a sensitive boy ..." She said making Oswald's face go red with embarrassment. "He needs a good friend to look after him. He's never been good with others ... He's always been alone. He needs someone." She said as Oswald's face turned even redder. 

"Mother ..." Oswald complained. 

"Well it is true! Having your mother worrying all the time! The bullies and the strange men out there, you don't know!" 

Murphy felt embarrassed on Oswald’s behalf. Granted, he was glad that Gertrude was encouraging him to spend more time with Oswald; he had no complaints about that … though they would have to be sneaky to get the kind of time together he wanted most. But Oswald hadn’t been kidding when he’d said she was overprotective. Murphy felt like he was gaining a whole new insight into Oswald’s apparent lack of confidence; while everyone else gave him the message that he wasn’t good enough, his mother was so protective that she inadvertently sent the message that he couldn’t look after himself. It had to be maddening. “We’ll walk home together, don’t worry,” Murphy reassured her.

"Good. Now I'm off to the food bank ... We need more food if Murphy is to stay with us ..." She said patting Murphy on the shoulder. "You two should get ready for work." 

"We're off until tomorrow." Oswald said. "I think Murphy goes back on Monday." He said as his mother moved to the door. 

"Well, you boys take it easy today then. I will take your laundry to the Landro-Matt down the street on my way there. I will be back in a few hours." She said moving to Oswald's room to collect their clothing. 

“Thank you,” Murphy said, a little embarrassed. “I really appreciate that you’re letting me stay here.” Though he still felt terrible that he wasn’t really doing anything helpful around here. He winced at the reminder that he didn’t go back until Monday. He just felt so damned useless right now.

Gertrude came back in with a laundry basket under one arm, her purse on her shoulder. 

"You two behave yourselves while I'm gone." She said looking pointedly at Oswald. 

"Yes, mom." He said annoyed that she still treated him like a child. He was twenty years old, almost twenty one! 

“We will, ma’am,” Murphy assured her, trying hard to suppress a smile. While he understood Oswald’s annoyance … something about it was just funny to him.

Oswald heard the front door shut, the doors locking after her and heard her going down the hall stairs. 

“So …” said Murphy. “That wasn’t quite as awkward as it could have been.” Though it had certainly been awkward enough. The way that Gertrude had just glossed right over the implications of waking them up like that had been a relief at least. 

Oswald rolled his eyes. "She's overbearing sometimes ... It's like she doesn't want to admit that I'm an adult now ..." 

“She really cares, though,” said Murphy, then added: “For the record, I know you can take care of yourself.”

"Yeah, I've done such a good job of that so far." He said sarcastically, standing up from the table. "Since she'll be gone for a while do you want to get a bit more sleep?" Oswald asked yawning. Glancing at the clock he shook his head. It wasn't even six am yet. 

“That,” said Murphy. “Sounds like a phenomenal idea.” He stood up stiffly, and started to head back to Oswald’s bedroom.

Oswald followed Murphy to the bedroom, leaving his shirt and sweats on as he crawled into bed next to Murphy. He gently put his hand on his chest again as he curled up next to him. 

"Murphy ..." Oswald started but hesitated. 

“Yes?” asked Murphy, relaxing next to Oswald and putting his arm around him. He thought he could easily get used to sleeping with Oswald in his arms … circumstances permitting.

"How ..." Oswald paused not knowing how to ask what he wanted to ask. "What we did the other night .... That's normal right?" 

Murphy looked down at him. Something in Oswald’s voice seemed troubled. “Yes,” he said. “That’s pretty normal. It’s not even just a gay thing; a heterosexual couple could do pretty much the same thing.” Somehow, though, he thought there might be more to Oswald’s question than that.

"Can ... Can two men ... I mean ..." He hesitated to ask and closed his eyes. "What else can .... Can two men do ... Sexually?" 

Murphy was quiet for a moment. From the way Oswald was asking, and from the placement of the bruises he’d seen last night, Murphy suspected more strongly than ever that Oswald had already found out the answer in the worst way possible. Murphy’s hands shook at the thought, and in that moment he was sure that if he ever found out exactly who had done this to Oswald, he would never be able to keep his promise not to do anything stupid. But that wasn’t what Oswald needed right now; he just needed Murphy to be honest and open with him, so that he could decide for himself if he wanted to pursue this. 

“Well … common practice for two men would be to um … use the anus.” He wasn’t going to mess around with euphemisms or hinting; there needed to be no room for confusion. “Some men prefer to be on top, some prefer to be on bottom, and others are more flexible on the subject.”

Oswald opened his eyes, staring at Murphy's chest. "So that .... That's normal then?" Oswald asked confused. "W-why would ..." He sounded almost dumbfounded by this information. "Why would anyone want to do that? It ..." He paused realizing what he was about to say and didn't want to admit it to Murphy. He knew by this point Murphy had figured it out but it was another thing entirely to say it out loud. 

The pain and confusion in Oswald’s voice was just heartbreaking. It was bad enough that anyone had done this to him in the first place, but that it had been his first experience with it, before he really even understood how it worked … that was just monstrous. “If it’s done right, it shouldn’t hurt,” he explained sadly. “It should always start out slow and gradual, especially if whoever’s on the receiving end is inexperienced. And the person on top needs to always listen if the other person needs them to slow down or stop. Also, there should always be lubricant involved. But … it’s really something that should only happen with a person you trust.” Though, after Oswald’s ordeal, Murphy couldn’t really blame him if he wanted nothing to do with it ever again.

"It would still hurt though ... Wouldn't it? I mean ... Even if it was tolerable ... It couldn't possibly feel good." He said. "I don't understand how someone would willingly do that." 

“Sometimes it can still be uncomfortable at first,” Murphy admitted. “But … it really can be enjoyable when it’s done correctly. At least, that’s what I’ve found.” He wondered briefly whether Oswald would think less of him for willingly being on the receiving end. A lot of men thought that way … even some gay ones, which had always struck Murphy as counterintuitive.

"You ... You like that?" He asked looking up at him. 

“Not with just anyone,” Murphy said, meeting Oswald’s eyes. He refused to be ashamed of it. “I don’t tolerate anyone doing it incorrectly. But yes.”

"Oh ..." Oswald said looking back down at Murphy's chest. He doubted Murphy would ever allow him to try that then ... With how inexperienced he was ... But then, Oswald wasn't even sure if he'd want to do that to Murphy. Sure Murphy said he liked it but ... It was unpleasant ... And he didn't want to do anything unpleasant to Murphy. 

Murphy wasn’t sure what to make of that disappointed-sounding ‘Oh.’ Did Oswald think less of him after all? Was it something he was entirely unwilling to try? Or was there something else upsetting him? “Does … does that bother you?” Murphy asked. Despite his determination not to be ashamed of his preferences … he found he cared a great deal about what Oswald thought of him.

"No. Not at all ..." He said. Though now he felt as if Murphy stayed with him he'd be missing out on that. And from what Oswald could tell, sex meant a great deal to Murphy. 

Murphy wasn’t sure he entirely believed that, but he wasn’t going to press it. “Okay. Well … if it’s not something you’re ever interested in, that’s fine. But… for the record, I’d trust you.”

Oswald looked up at him, curiosity filling him despite what had happened last night. If Murphy liked that then ... But maybe he was lying ... Maybe he didn't and .... But why would he lie? 

"But I wouldn't know what I'm doing." He stated quietly. 

“I could talk you through it the first time,” said Murphy. “If you’d be interested in trying it. Just let me know.”

Oswald nodded against Murphy's chest as he yawned quietly. "I'll ... I'll think about it." Oswald said.


	14. Target Practice

Chapter 14: Target Practice

Saturday came far too quickly for Oswald's liking. He found himself in front of Mooney's club, shaking slightly at the prospect of going in. He straightened his suit jacket, took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He placed his hand on the door handle, briefly hesitating before pulling it open and stepping in. 

Fish sat at her usual table, watching another band auditioning, when she heard the door open, and turned to see Oswald enter. Her eyebrows raised slightly. After what had happened the other night, she’d been largely convinced that he wouldn’t come back. She’d been furious at the time when she’d ordered that punishment, that he’d lied to her, that he’d broken into one of her rooms, that he’d gone snooping around, undermining her assertion of power over him … If she hadn’t gone far enough before, then it was necessary to break him. But, in hindsight, she thought she might perhaps have gone too far this time, driving her little pet away for good. Oswald might be desperate for work … but he was still a snivelling little coward. She could hardly expect him to have the balls to return after something like that. When she’d overheard some of the boys placing bets over whether the Penguin would show up today, she’d been convinced that Butch was throwing his money away.

Yet here he was. Timid, but present none-the-less. That too, was pathetic in a way, that he really did have nowhere else to go. But still … the boy had more potential than she’d given him credit for. “Oswald,” she said with a slight approving smile. “You’re right on time …” she glanced over at Butch. “I believe, Butch, that you have 50 dollars to collect from Lazlo.”

Oswald glanced at Butch … They’d been making bets on whether he would show up or not? “Of course, Miss. Mooney.” He said coming up to her. “I apologise for what I did before … I made a mistake and a lesson needed to be learned. I understand that …” He said staring at the ground. 

Fish put a hand under Oswald’s chin and tilted his face up to look at her. “And you seem to have learned it,” she said, satisfied with his contrite demeanour. It had been a gamble, being that harsh on him, but it had paid off. “That’s over with now.” She took her hand away from his face, and leant back comfortably in her chair. “There’s a mess in the basement that needs cleaning. Go take care of that.”

“Yes, Miss. Mooney.” He said before heading towards the supply closet to collect the bucket and brush. He’d never done this before but it was simple enough to do. He had an idea of what the mess was, if William had been any indication of what went on down there. 

He filled the bucket with water and awkwardly carried it downstairs. When he got into the small room he paused. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there, but in the back of the room a man was tied to a chair, bloodied and bruised, a wet bloody streak was across the floor in front of him. It looked as if a body had been dragged from the room. 

The man groaned and moved frantically in his chair, tugging at his bonds as Oswald came into the room. Oswald looked at him a moment before he put the bucket down. He ignored the man who was screaming around his gag as he put the brush into the water and started scrubbing away at the blood on the floor. 

The man continued struggling as Oswald went about his business, having no luck at all with the ropes binding him, but somehow in all of his frantic motion, the gag came loose. “Hey,” he whispered hoarsely, his throat raw from screaming. “I know you don’t know me, but I would owe you a huge favour, I would do absolutely anything, if you could just help me out here.”

Oswald glanced over at him a moment before going back to cleaning the blood off of the floor, dipping the brush into the bucket, the water in the bucket becoming redder and redder the more he washed the cement floor. 

“Please,” the man begged, too desperate to give up. “My name is Cory Nettleship, I… I have a wife, and she’s eight months pregnant with our first kid, and she must be worried sick right now and … Please, I can’t … I can’t die down here and leave her alone at a time like this. Please.”

“Shut up.” Oswald hissed at his scrubbing at the blood more. He hated that this guy … this kid … had to tell him that didn’t he? Oswald glanced at him, he had to be lying. He didn’t look more than sixteen … He looked younger than Oswald was anyway … He supposed it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility but … He looked away from him again and kept on cleaning. 

“Please,” he continued, near to tears now, undeterred by Oswald’s apparent indifference. “I swear I’ll do anything, you won’t regret it, I just need to be there for her now. Please!”

“You don’t get it do you?” Oswald asked. “I have a family too . If I let you go she’ll come after me and my family … I’m not stupid. Now shut … Up.” He said walking over to Cory and moving his hands towards his mouth to put the gag back in. 

“Wait! Please!” Cory tried to pull back away from the gag, though his range of motion was extremely limited. “She won’t have to know it was you! Just … just loosen the ropes now and I’ll slip out later after you’re gone. She’ll never know!”

“She always knows.” He said putting the gag back into his mouth, his fingers coming awfully close to the man’s teeth. Cory pulled his head away from the gag and bit Oswald’s finger, feeling the knuckle shift under his teeth as he bit down. 

Oswald screamed loudly as the man bit into his knuckle. He tried to pull his hand back but the man had a lock down on his finger. Oswald swung back with his free hand and punched Cory hard in the face making him let go. Oswald groaned as he got his hand back, blood dripping down his hand. 

“What is going on down here?” Fish asked coming into the room as Oswald crouched down on the ground clutching his hand. 

Cory’s eyes widened as he stared up at Fish, Oswald’s blood still dripping from his mouth. He was silent now, shaking in terror.

Mooney went up to Oswald and crouched down next to him. She took Oswald’s hand and inspected it. “Oh, now my pet …” She said kindly, running her hands through his hair. “What did he do to you?” She said looking at the bloodied bite mark. 

“M-miss Mooney … His …. His gag came loose …. I-I-I was just putting it back I-” 

“Hush.” She said running her hand down his face as Butch walked into the room. “I’m not mad at you Oswald …” She said standing up and tuning to Cory. “Now you … on the other hand …” 

Cory looked away from Mooney, turning his stare down to the floor, still shaking uncontrollably. He knew he was dead at this point; it was only a matter of how drawn out it would be.

“You hurt my boy … That wasn’t very nice of you was it?” She asked taking Cory by the chin and forcing him to look at her. “I want you to apologise.” She said letting go of him harshly. 

Cory glared down at Oswald. Why should he have to apologise to someone who was content to leave him to die? No matter what he said, there was no way he’d be going home alive anyway, so what did he have left to lose? … Well, maybe a few things. Some ways of dying were worse than others.

The man sighed. “I’m sorry I bit you,” he said. At least, he was sorry about the impending consequences for it, anyway.

“Now, I don’t believe you mean that,” Mooney said. “Now … I want you to be sincere about your apology.” She said as Oswald stood up clutching his hand. 

Cory stared. How could he be sincere when he didn’t really mean his apology and everyone here knew it anyway. He looked up at Oswald, still shaking, but this time filled with more hatred than fear. “I sincerely hope you’re in this exact same situation someday,” he said before he could think better of it. “I hope you beg someone for help and they do nothing. And I hope that however I die, you die worse.”

“Oh … I’m sensing some hostility here.” Mooney said walking over to Butch. She took his gun from his holster and walked over to the other side of the room a good ten feet away from Cory. “Well … We can’t have that can we?” She said. “Oswald, come over here.” She said. Oswald looked at Mooney a moment before he followed behind her. 

Cory continued to glare at Oswald from the other side of the room, still trembling, but said nothing. He knew he’d sealed his fate. Butch went over to the other side of the room with Miss. Mooney and Oswald, hanging back to watch. He had a feeling this was about to get messy. 

“Have you ever shot a gun, Oswald?” Mooney asked holding Butch’s gun. 

“N-No … Miss Mooney. I haven’t.” He said looking down at the silver gun in her hands. 

“Well … It’s a great time for a lesson.” She said handing the gun to Oswald. 

“I’ll miss,” Oswald said taking the gun in his good hand. 

“That’s what practice is for,” Mooney said standing behind him and showing him how to hold the gun. She showed him how to take the safety off, instructed him on how to aim. 

Cory swallowed fearfully. If how long it had taken him to learn to aim was any indication, this could take forever, and be extremely unpleasant in the process. And that was assuming that Oswald even bothered trying to kill him quickly in the first place.

Oswald put his finger on the trigger as he was instructed, his other hand burning from the bite and he steadied the gun. Oswald aimed at Cory, ignoring the fearful look on his face. He squeezed the trigger. He jumped at the sound of the bang, the gun recoiling back so hard it narrowly missed his face. The bullet hit the cement wall behind Cory a few feet away. 

Cory flinched as the gun went off, eyes clenching shut, but he wasn’t hit. Opening his eyes, he glanced behind him and saw that the bullet had hit nowhere near him. 

Butch shook his head. “You gotta account for the recoil. See how it jerks up like that? You can go with it a little, but you need to compensate for it some to keep it steady, or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Oswald nodded at Gilzean, holding the gun up again. He took Gilzean’s advice and tried again. The bullet going off with a loud bang, the bullet hitting a little bit closer but still missing. 

Cory couldn’t help flinching again. He hated not knowing when he would be hit. Under normal circumstances, if someone fired a gun at him, he would at least have known that this was it.

“Better,” said Mooney, encouragingly. “But you’ll want to aim a little to the left of where you’ve been aiming so far… you keep landing over to the right.”

Oswald nodded and aimed a little farther left. He pulled the trigger again, this time missing too far to the left, but only by a few inches, the cement shattering under the impact of the bullet. 

Cory shuddered at just how close the bullet had passed by this time. “Not quite that far to the left,” said Butch. “But you’re getting there.”

Oswald looked at Butch, refraining from rolling his eyes. He aimed the gun again and shot the gun again, once, twice, a third time. The third shot skimmed Cory’s calf, the bullet embedding in the wall with the others, but at least he’d … almost, hit him. He tore flesh at the least. Oswald could see blood appearing through his tan pants. 

Cory cried out as the bullet grazed his calf … but still didn’t really hit him. He cursed under his breath and glared back at Oswald, unable to stop shaking.

“Don’t rapid fire …” Mooney said annoyed. “Keep calm, and aim. One at a time.” Oswald glanced at her as Gilzean handed her a new clip. She showed him how to reload and Oswald aimed again. 

This time, the first shot hit him straight in the calf, shattering the bone where it struck. Oswald smirked as he finally hit his target. 

Cory screamed in pain as the bullet hit, slumping forward in his chair as much as the ropes would allow and hissing out a string of curse words.

Oswald’s smirk widened as he aimed again. Gilzean laughed at how happy Oswald seemed. “Well …” Miss Mooney said, observing Oswald. “It seems Oswald has found his calling.” She said motioning to Butch to follow her. “We’ll leave him to you then Oswald …” Mooney said heading towards the door. “Just make sure he’s dead when you’re done with him. I’ll have Butch here show you how to hide a body after.” 

Oswald nodded to her. “Of course.” He said looking back at Cory who was slumped over crying in his chair. “Thank you, Miss. Mooney.” 

“Have fun.” Butch said patting him on the shoulder. 

As Mooney and Gilzean left, Cory slowly straightened to look back at Oswald, still shaking uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. “Just … just get it over with,” he whispered.

Oswald stepped closer to Cory and looked down at him, his hands on his knees as he looked at him, the gun still in his hand but the safety now set into place. 

“Really?” Oswald asked, enjoying the power he had over this man. He smirked and took the safety off the gun again. “And what makes you think I’ll ‘Get it over with’?” He asked. 

Cory’s eyes widened. “It’s… it’s not personal for you. You have no reason to draw it out.” Though the bastard did seem to be enjoying it. He’d just had to end up at the mercy of some freak in need of a power trip.

Oswald laughed. “Oh … It wasn’t personal …. I probably would have been glad to make it quick for you … But you see,” Oswald said holding up his finger which was still covered in blood and was still bleeding slightly. “This hurt … A lot …” 

“There’s a fucking bullet in my leg,” said Cory. “I think we’re even.”

Oswald laughed and aimed the gun directly above his knee, he pulled the trigger the bullet going straight down into his leg. “Oh …. We’re far from even.” He said with a grin. 

Cory screamed in pain again, shoulders shaking from involuntary crying. “Y-you’re fucking insane,” he hissed. “Y-you can just go straight to hell!”

“I do worry about that.” He said, it was a thought that had occurred to him when he killed his brother. “But for whatever reason, you’re here … I’m sure you’ll be saving me a seat.” He said shooting him again, this time in the shoulder. 

Cory screamed in agony and doubled over as much as the ropes would allow. He didn’t bother looking up again, didn’t bother trying to say anything else to this monster. He just wanted it to end, just wanted to stop hurting.

“Oh now … You’re just taking the fun out of it.” Oswald said shooting him again until the clip ran empty, not hitting anything fatal. 

Cory remained slumped down in the chair, shouting when each bullet hit, but still not saying anything, just shaking and crying as he stared down at the ground.

Oswald used the gun to lift Cory’s chin to look up at him. “Say something Cory dear,” Oswald said with a grin. “Would you like me to relay anything back to your wife?” He asked. “If you like …. I’ll take care of her.” He said snickering slightly. 

“Don’t you dare go near her!” Cory shouted, struggling wildly against the ropes, snarling like a rabid animal. “I’ll kill you! I will fucking kill you!”

“Woe hoe,” Oswald said amused. “That got a reaction out of you.” He said laughing. “You know … They say grieving women are the easiest to get with …” He said looking up at Cory from where he crouched on the floor in front of him. “Tell me, is she pretty?” 

“Leave her alone!” Cory shouted in a panic “Just leave her out of this! She never did anything to you or to anyone else, she never … just …” He broke down crying again. “Please, just … just leave her alone … Haven’t you ever had someone you care about? Just… please…”

Oswald ran his hand through Cory’s hair. “Don’t worry … You don’t have to worry about her. I’ll run to her rescue when she finds out your dead . I’ll take your place. I’m sure I’d be a much better father than you would be anyway.” He said replacing the clip in the gun with a new one and raising the gun to his chest. “Could you imagine that? Your child calling me daddy? I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl … Do you know?” 

Cory flinched away when Oswald touched him. He stared up at him in horror. “S-stay away from her,” he stammered. “Leave them alone … just … please leave them alone.”

Oswald considered this. “And . Why would I do that? When I could have so much fun.” He asked pulling the safety back off the gun. “Are you really going to be able to stop me, hmm?” 

“Y-you said you have your own family to think about,” Cory pleaded desperately. “Just … Just go back to them and leave mine alone. Please, I’m begging you, just leave them alone.”

“Oh but see … I don’t have a woman.” He said with a smirk. He didn’t need to know Oswald swung towards men … Oswald hesitated in his taunting, thinking about Murphy for the first time since he’d come downstairs. What would Murphy think about all this? Oswald stood up, no longer grinning as he looked down at Cory. 

He moved around behind him and pulled a knife out of his pocket. He cut the rope from his wrists. “I’ll give you a chance … If you can make it to the door … I’ll help you out. And you can return to your wife.” 

“W-what?” Cory stammered in disbelief. But he still felt the ropes fall away from his wrists. He didn’t understand this sudden change, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I… I won’t forget this.” He tried to get up, but his leg refused to support his weight where the bullet had shattered bone, and he only managed to fall forward out of the chair onto the floor, gasping in pain. “I … I can’t make it,” he groaned in despair. After all that, he was still going to die down here.

Oswald sat down in the chair where Cory was sitting previously. “Then you better start crawling.” He said watching Cory. “Or do you not want to see your wife again? I thought you’d be more desperate than that. You gave up so easily.” Oswald said. “You know …. When I was a kid I learned that … Pain really doesn’t mean anything … It can only get so bad before it can’t get any worse …. You can make it.” Oswald said encouragingly. 

“Playing with your food Oswald?” Butch asked coming down the stairs. Oswald looked up at Butch in surprise. 

“Mr. Gilzean. I-I-I ... “ Oswald stuttered. 

“Relax Oswald …. I love a good show.” He said stepping to the side. “You’re creative kid …. I like that.” 

Cory had been encouraged by Oswald’s words, twisted as the source might be, and had started to pull himself toward the door, though he only really had the use of one arm … then froze when Gilzean entered the room. He stared up at him, terrified. But neither Gilzean nor Oswald did anything to impede his progress… so he started trying to crawl for the door again. He didn’t think there was any real chance, now, that they’d let him out of here alive, but he had to try.

Oswald sat back in the chair and watched him struggle across the floor. The man got halfway to the door before Oswald stood up again. 

“Did you give him a time limit Oswald?” Gilzean asked. Oswald looked up at him. 

“No, I didn’t. Should I have?” He asked looking over at Gilzean. 

Cory started trying to crawl faster, gasping in pain as he did … though he rationally didn’t know how much good it would do, his whole being was just focused on getting to that door. He was bleeding profusely over the floor as he went. Even if they didn’t just kill him anyway, he knew his chances weren’t good.

“You could …” Butch said leaning against the wall by the door. Oswald thought a moment as he walked towards Cory. 

“Let’s give him a time limit then …” He said coming up next to Cory. “One … Two … Three …” Oswald started counting, not bothering to tell Cory how far he was going to count to. The man was almost there. 

Cory struggled forward as fast as he could, focusing hard on just getting there, on not passing out from the pain in the process … He finally managed to touch the door, gasping for breath. He looked up at Oswald anxiously, desperate, but with no guarantee that the man would keep his word … with Butch right there, he probably couldn’t even if he wanted to. But it was the last hope Cory had.

Oswald stopped counting and looked down at Cory. “Well … Open the door.” Oswald said aiming the gun at him. 

Cory stared at Oswald, and his face paled. He looked up at the door handle, which seemed impossibly high up from his place on the floor … but he’d come too far to give up now. With an agonised cry of pain, he managed to get up on to his knees, and reached up for the door handle, pulling it down and pushing against the door with his good shoulder, falling out through the doorway as it opened.

Oswald moved behind Cory and grabbed onto his pant leg. He pulled him back into the room and flipped him onto his back. “Don’t worry Cory …. I’ll make sure your wife knows that your last thoughts were of her.” He said aiming the gun down at him. A loud bang echoed through the basement as Oswald shot one last time and Cory stopped moving. 

“Well …” Gilzean said. “You’re fun to have around.” He said stepping away from the wall and moving towards Cory. “Come on, I’ll show you how to hide a body …. Then you can come back and clean up this mess you made.”

A/N - Anyway, that's all for a while. Hope you all enjoy and hopefully we'll get back to posting regularly. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! 


	15. Who's afraid of monsters?

Oswald walked tiredly up the stairs of the apartment building to his mother’s door and paused. A strange noise came from inside, like a wounded cat. Oswald tried the handle and was surprised when it clicked open. 

When he got inside he saw Murphy sitting on the couch with his mother, her eyes red and puffy, a handkerchief in her hands wiping away tears. 

Gertrud looked up as Oswald entered. “My Oswald, thank God you are home safe!” Her eyes welled up with tears all over again. “I … Come sit down, Oswald. I … have some bad news to tell you.” Murphy stood up from where he’d been sitting next to Gertrud, gesturing for Oswald to take his place. His eyes met Oswald’s with a look of deep concern and sympathy.

Oswald sat down next to his mother, concerned by how upset she was. What could have happened that would upset her so? 

"Did something happen to Aunty Edith?" He asked. They had no other family that they are in contact with. And despite rarely seeing her, Oswald did care about his mother's sister. She was a kind lady who gave him cookies when he was little. 

Gertrud shook her head. “No, Oswald, dear,” she said, her voice starting to choke up with tears. “It’s … It’s William. They … they found his body in Gotham Bay. He was … somebody… there was a knife wound.” She hid her face in the handkerchief again.

Murphy stood quietly behind Oswald, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, not wanting to be intrusive, but glancing down at Oswald’s face to see how he was taking the news. From what Gertrud had said, it had been years since Oswald had been in contact with his one remaining brother, but … it still had to be hard. Murphy was all too familiar with the sudden loss that Oswald had to be experiencing right now.

Oswald put his arms around his mother, his face showing concern but little else. In a way the look seemed almost ... Forced ... Perhaps not forced but it seemed .... Misdirected. As if Oswald's concern was for his mother rather than the brother he'd lost. 

"I'm sorry Mother." Oswald said kindly, his hand stroking her hair as she cried. He knew if she ever found out she would be crushed ... He had hoped it wouldn't have been this soon though. She'd become even more overprotective now that Murphy had been attacked and now this ... 

Gertrud put her arms around Oswald, the last of her boys, and wept. Murphy kept his hand on Oswald’s shoulder, but frowned, looking down at the scene in confusion. Something about Oswald’s reaction felt … off, somehow. Of course he was being very kind and considerate in comforting his mother but … he just seemed to lack any real grief of his own. Granted, Murphy could think of a couple of losses in his own family where his first reaction had just been shock and numb disbelief, and then his first concern had been comforting his brother and his grandmother as much as possible before his own grief started to sink in … but still. Even then, there had been … something. Right now, he just didn’t see Oswald reflecting any of that.

Gertrud let go of Oswald and looked at him. "You will be alright?" She asked raising her hand to his cheek. 

"Yes it's just ..." Oswald paused wondering what to say. He didn't want his mother to know he didn't care that William was dead. "A lot to take in." He said. "It's nearing midnight, Mother. You should try to get some rest tonight." He said. 

Gertrud nodded as she wiped her nose. Oswald seemed to be okay. Perhaps it was the shock ... It had been the same with his other brothers passing as well. Oswald grieved in his own way. She knew this. 

"Yes ... I ... I am tired." She said nodding. In fact she had almost fallen asleep on the couch twice waiting for Oswald to come home. She patted Oswald's hand and affectionately, before patting Murphy’s shoulder as she past him. 

"Thank you for being here Murphy. Such a good man." She said before heading to her bedroom. 

Murphy gave Gertrud a sad wince of a smile as she passed by. The sleep would probably do her some good … He turned back to Oswald once she’d left, studying his face, trying to understand how things stood. Whatever Oswald was feeling, it didn’t seem to bear much resemblance at all to how Murphy had felt when he’d lost his own brother … but then, he knew that Oswald’s family situation had always been complicated. Oswald had never really talked about his brothers, so Murphy wasn’t sure how they fit into the equation, let alone how he felt about this now.

“Are you alright?” he asked, uncertainly.

Once Gertrud left, Oswald's face became emotionless. "Of course ... Why wouldn't I be?" Oswald asked standing up and heading towards the bedroom. He had no doubt that his mother wouldn't leave her room for a few days as she had when his other brothers passed. He'd have to bring her food in the morning, but at least he didn't need to worry about his mother barging in. He made a mental note to put a lock on the door sometime soon. 

Murphy stared. “Well … I can think of at least one reason off the top of my head,” he said. Sure, a lot of people said they were alright when they were grieving, but … Oswald didn’t give off even the slightest suggestion that he was faking it. If anything, his face was even more emotionless after his mother left … as if whatever small amount of feeling he’d shown was just in sympathy for her. He really did seem to feel nothing. Murphy followed him into the bedroom. “I take it you weren’t exactly close?”

Oswald sat down on the bed as he removed his jacket and shirt, he hung the jacket on the chair next to his bed and tossed his shirt towards the hamper by his closet, narrowly missing, the white fabric falling to the floor. “No … We weren’t. Besides, it’s not exactly news to me.” He said casually as if he were talking about the weather. 

Murphy sat down on the bed next to Oswald, though a few feet away, observing him uneasily. The way Oswald was reacting, or rather wasn’t reacting, was completely alien to him. “What do you mean,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t news to you?”

Oswald sighed and turned to Murphy. “Look … I told you before I wasn’t good for you. You don’t know me yet, you don’t know what I’ve done, and when you do … You’ll leave …” He said sadly. “I’m a monster, Murphy …” Oswald said though he held little remorse in his voice. 

Murphy looked back steadily at Oswald, his eye contact unwavering despite his growing apprehension. “Try me,” he said.

Oswald smiled bitterly, a breathy noise coming from his nose as he looked away and shook his head. “I killed my brother …” Oswald said quietly so that his voice would not travel through the thin walls, despite his mother’s room being on the other end of the apartment. He couldn’t hear her weeping anymore and assumed she must have fallen asleep. Oswald looked back up at Murphy. “Not only that … I enjoyed it … What kind of monster gets off on killing his own brother?” 

For a long moment, Murphy couldn’t speak. He just stared at Oswald, feeling shock and confusion and disbelief and revulsion and … and for some reason, rage, though that last one wasn’t directed at Oswald … At least, he didn’t think it was. Everything felt so mixed up right now. “You …” he looked down at the floor for a moment, then shook his head and looked back at Oswald. “I … assume there were reasons? For what you did?”

“Does it matter?” Oswald asked. “My older brother was tied to a chair, helpless, already bleeding …. I stabbed him once in the stomach …. Taunted him …. Then slowly … very slowly, stabbed him through the heart. When Mooney first put the knife in my hand I …. I was terrified really …. I didn’t know what to do. But he worked for Maroni, and I needed that job …. I did what I had to do …. but I didn’t have to enjoy it. Just as I didn’t have to enjoy killing the man I killed a few hours ago. I played with him too …. I could have made it easy … but I didn’t …” Oswald said still looking up at Murphy. “Do you still like me now that you know who I am, Murphy? Or do you think me a monster as well?” 

Murphy rubbed at his temples, trying to think. “Okay … I … need to process this one thing at a time.” He looked up at Oswald again. “Your brother,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Can you explain to me both the circumstances and what he was like.” That was the part that he was having the most difficulty wrapping his head around. If he could just understand that, he felt like he’d be able to somehow understand everything else.

“Does that really matter?” Oswald asked. “Mooney instructed me to do something and I did it …. I could have walked away and I didn’t. And what William was like shouldn’t matter either …. Does one’s personality determine their life’s worth?” 

“Yes, it damn well matters!” Murphy all but shouted. “When it’s your brother, it matters!” He made himself stop talking, realizing he’d raised his voice, and not wanting to wake up Gertrud. He stood up and walked away from the bed, needing to physically distance himself from Oswald to calm down, pacing the small room to try to get himself under control. “Just … will you please just tell me, did you have other reasons to want to kill him? Was … was he like your father?”

Oswald sighed and shook his head. “If it makes a difference to you …. He was every bit his father’s son.” He said glancing back up at him. “Though he wasn’t nearly as bad as my other brothers … I still hated him as much. Does this make the situation better? Because I hated him?” Oswald shook his head. “Look …. I know this severely changes things …. It’s why I wanted you to know now …. Not when it’ll be harder because it obviously sure as hell is hard for you as it is …..” He said sighing again and running his hand over his face. “Murphy, why the hell are you even still here?” He asked. 

“I’m still homeless, remember?” he heard himself say with a bitter little smile. Then he sighed and looked back down at Oswald. “More seriously, though… I want to understand. We’ve already been through enough together that I owe it to you to at least try …” He shook his head. “Anyway, I… may have made too many questionable decisions of my own to really judge.” 

He walked over and sat back down on the bed next to Oswald. “And yes,” he said, meeting Oswald’s eyes. “It does make a difference to me that you hated him. If someone’s been tormenting you, and no one else ever did anything about it … you shouldn’t have to just take it like some kind of saint,” he said. He kept his voice low, but full of a dark, deep-rooted anger. “And if he just let all of those things happen to you, and never lifted a finger to protect and support you the way an older brother should, then … as far as I’m concerned, he was no family of yours.”

“So that gives me the right to kill him?” Oswald asked. “And what about the other man I killed tonight? I don’t know who he was until Mooney ordered me to kill him.” Oswald looked at Murphy. “I don’t understand you …” Oswald said. “Everyone else turns away from me at the slightest glance but you ….” Oswald laughed hollowly again. “I tell you I murdered two people, one of them my own brother and you’re sitting here with me trying to rationalize it … Like you still want to be here.” 

“I told you I like you,” Murphy sighed, though he was still far from comfortable with all of this. “You should know, I have the capacity to be stubborn beyond all reason sometimes. And again, I’m pretty sure my judging rights got revoked awhile ago.” 

For a moment, he thought about telling Oswald why, about just putting all his cards on the table, just as Oswald had done. But … there were still a few implications here that troubled him. What else, exactly, would Oswald do at Fish’s orders, so long as it bought him time until he was ready to strike back? The last thing he wanted was for that kind of blackmail material to get back to Fish Mooney.

“Though,” he took a deep breath. “I’ll admit, the guy you didn’t know … That … that does bother me some … Granted,” he said, thinking out loud now more than holding a conversation. “I doubt you had much choice in whether to do it, it’s not like you could have just flipped Miss. Mooney the bird and walked out of there, but … but still …”

"I enjoyed playing with him." Oswald said honestly, crossing his legs on the bed sounding much like a child who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and was being forced to apologize. "That's not normal ... I know it's not ... But ... I feel no remorse towards it. That makes me a monster doesn't it?" 

Murphy shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can be the one to judge that. Maybe no one can … maybe ‘monster’ is just a word people use for the parts of human nature they don’t want to recognize.” 

He looked over at Oswald, conflicted. He was terrified, now knowing what Oswald was capable of, and wondering what twisted part of himself was really drawn to him. But at the same time … he still cared about him. He couldn’t bring himself to just walk away and leave Oswald alone, and go back to being alone himself.

"Murphy .... I ...." Oswald sighed and leaned against the headboard. "Can I .... I mean ... I know I have no right to but .... Can I request something of you?" 

“What is it?” Murphy asked, more guarded than he would have been before.

"If anything were to ... To happen to me. If I get caught or ... Or ..." He didn't want to voice what else could happen to him in this line of business, but he knew both of them knew it. "Would you make sure my mother is okay?" He asked. "She would never survive on her own. Not anymore. Not if she lost all of her kids ..." 

Murphy nodded. He reached out and took Oswald’s hand in his. “I’ll take care of her,” he promised. “If anything ever happens.” He knew what it was to be the last family member standing, and to be left to face that alone. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “Though let’s make keeping you alive and out of prison our top priority, shall we?”

Oswald laughed innocently. "I like that plan." He said slowly leaning forward and hugging Murphy. "You're a good man, Murphy. You deserve a lot more than what you have. You deserve a good home and a good job .... A better man ...." He said hugging Murphy to him. He hadn't left ... Oswald was more confused now than ever but ... Murphy was still here .... With him ... Still wanted to be with him. He couldn't be lying ... There was no way anyone would sit through what he just told them and still want to be here .... But ... Here he was .... 

Murphy wrapped his arms around Oswald, holding him tight, holding onto the one certain thing in the midst of all of his fears and uncertainties… That Oswald was here. He wasn’t alone. Oswald needed him. Insane as it all was, everything else just felt secondary to that. So Oswald had killed. Murphy wasn’t in a place to judge that. So he’d enjoyed it. Murphy couldn’t judge that either. So it had happened a second time … That, Murphy was unsure how to handle. But … wasn’t it better for Oswald to come home safe than to die doing the right thing for some stranger? But… 

Murphy shook his head. “I’m not a good man, Oswald,” he whispered. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even met one. And you’re the one I want to be with. So … so just deal with it.”

“I think out of the two of us, you’re the crazy one.” Oswald said pulling back from Murphy and removing his pants. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of old pajama pants. He glanced over at Murphy a moment, keeping his back to him as he removed his boxers, the bruises on his hips and ass still dark against his pale skin, before he slipped his pajama pants on. 

“It’s certainly possible,” Murphy admitted. He’d felt like he was losing his mind for awhile now, anyway. This might just be the inevitable result. He glanced over at Oswald as he changed, and his expression darkened. Crazy or not, when he saw those bruises, murder seemed like a perfectly rational solution. There were other bruises on Oswald’s body, ones Murphy hadn’t noticed before. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by that. But the more prominent ones around his hips, the partial hand print on his ass, stood out as stark reminders of what those bastards had done. However many people Oswald had killed, if the men who had done this were still alive somewhere, then he still hadn’t killed enough.

“All I know is that I feel better when I’m around you than when I’m not.” Murphy shrugged. “I never claimed it made sense.” He removed his jeans, folding them and setting them on top of his gym bag, then climbed into bed.

Oswald moved over to the bed once more and climbed in on the other side. He waited until Murphy slid under the covers and laid down before he lay next to him, his arm going around Murphy’s waist. 

“Well you’re right on that …” He said looking up and kissing him lightly on the lips. He rested his head on Murphy’s shoulder, pulling the blanket over him and snuggling into Murphy. 

Murphy leaned into Oswald’s kiss, his worries and doubts momentarily driven from his mind. He put his arm around Oswald, pulling him closer, and ran his fingers lightly through Oswald’s hair.

"I love it when you do that." He said softly leaning up to kiss him again. 

Murphy returned Oswald’s kiss more passionately this time, slipping his tongue into Oswald’s mouth as he deepened the kiss. He continued to run his fingers through Oswald’s hair, his other hand moving over Oswald’s back. Despite everything, Oswald’s touch still made Murphy forget everything else … and right now, he had a lot of forgetting to do.


	16. Some bruises linger

Oswald shifted, hovering over Murphy as he took control of the kiss. It was a few moments before Oswald broke it and looked down at Murphy. 

"Can ..." He paused, the sudden control he had over the situation being replaced with shyness. "Can I ask you something ... If ... If you'd do something for me?" Oswald asked. 

Murphy looked up at him, curiously. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked.

"Can ... I mean ... You said before it's supposed to feel good right?" Oswald asked nervously. "Can ... I-I-I mean ... Can you show me?" Oswald asked biting his lip nervously as he sat up on the bed next to Murphy. 

“Oh,” Murphy looked up at Oswald, surprised that he would even suggest that so soon … But he supposed it made sense that Oswald wanted to try to replace a traumatic association with a positive one. But still … Murphy sat up next to Oswald, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Another time, I’d be happy to,” he said sincerely. “But … right now, I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

"I'm fine Murphy ... I ... I trust you." He said though even as he said it he wasn't sure if he did. Not fully. But ... In this he did. Murphy never did anything sexual he didn't like and always asked permission first and ... Explained when he didn't understand. He didn't laugh either ... Which was mostly what Oswald needed. Sexual interaction without the jeering and the laughter. 

Murphy shook his head. “It’s not just that,” he said. Though, whatever Oswald said, Murphy still doubted he was psychologically ready either. He might be pushing himself to try to get over it too quickly, and could end up pressuring himself into something he might regret later. But there was a practical issue here as well. “If…” he paused. So far, they’d avoided directly talking about what had happened … but they needed to discuss this. “If … someone was rough about it that recently, it’s … going to still be really sore if I try it tonight. You need to give yourself more time to recover.”

Oswald looked at the bed his hands playing with the sheets. So Murphy thought he was broken then ... He supposed that explained a bit. 

"It's fine ..." Oswald said his eyes still on the blanket. If Murphy didn't want him tonight that was just fine with him. He turned on the bed, sitting on the edge ... "If you didn't want me you just had to say so." He said standing up. He'd just make do sleeping on the couch ... Or maybe the floor would be more feasible. 

“Wait, no!” Murphy reached out for Oswald, taking hold of his hand as he stood up. “It’s not that,” he said. “I want you, you have no idea how much. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be on bottom this soon, because I don’t want to hurt you. Please stay.”

Oswald paused as he felt Murphy’s hand on his stopping him from leaving. He looked down at before looking at Murphy. He sighed. "Sorry." Oswald said. "Sorry I brought it up." He said sitting on the bed again. 

“No,” Murphy said softly, kissing Oswald gently on the cheek. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s important for us to talk about this kind of thing. Maybe in another couple of nights, if that’s what you want, but … trust me, trying it tonight wouldn’t feel good for you.”

Oswald nodded and turned back to Murphy. “I suppose I ruined the mood huh?" He asked. 

“Oh, I think we can salvage it,” he said, running a hand through the back of Oswald’s hair, and leaning in to kiss him.

Oswald smirked into the kiss, this time allowing Murphy to remain in control but returning the kiss just as passionately. 

"Good." He said only breaking the kiss long enough to say that single word. 

Murphy resumed and then deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Oswald’s mouth, then wrapped his arms around him and lay back on the bed, pulling Oswald on top of him as they kissed. 

Oswald allowed Murphy to pull him on top of him, straddling his waist as he took more control of the kiss, his hands holding up his weight on the bed on both sides of Murphy's shoulders. 

Murphy moved against Oswald as he straddled him, excited as Oswald took more control of the kiss. He ran a hand through Oswald’s hair, pulling lightly, his other hand moving down Oswald’s back.

Oswald could feel his cock hardening, tenting his pajama pants as he ground down against Murphy. He moaned into the kiss as Murphy tugged on his hair. 

Murphy felt Oswald growing hard against him, and his own cock hardened in response as he moved against him. One hand still in Oswald’s hair, Murphy slipped the other into Oswald’s pajama pants, giving his ass a light squeeze before bringing his hand around to the front to stroke Oswald’s cock.

Oswald moaned and arched his back, pressing his hips forward against Murphy's hand. He bit his lip when he realized how loudly he'd moaned and listened quietly for a moment. After a few seconds he heard his mother snoring from the other room and shook his head. 

This was risky ... If she woke up .... There was no way Oswald would be able to stay that quiet. 

Murphy paused as Oswald did, listening. As much as Murphy loved to make Oswald moan like that, they probably shouldn’t get too carried away. If Gertrud woke up and walked in on them now, this would be far more difficult to explain away. And a shock like that right now would be terrible for her. Murphy looked up at Oswald. “Do you want to continue?” he whispered. “Do you think you’ll be able to be quiet?”

"Better find a way to keep me quiet then." Oswald said with a wicked smirk. 

Murphy looked surprised for a moment at the confidence in Oswald’s response, then grinned. He brought his hand up to the side of Oswald’s face. “I think we can work something out,” he said, then pulled Oswald down into a kiss, waiting until his mouth was pressed against his before running his hand slowly up Oswald’s shaft again. He wondered, just how confident was Oswald feeling right now? Maybe they would be able to try one or two new things tonight after all.

Oswald still couldn’t believe this was happening. Not even days ago he’d been convinced that he would never meet anyone who would even look at him without disgust and now … He broke the kiss and looked down at Murphy. Here was this man, in his bed, not only looking at him but touching him … kissing him … 

It was insane to think about. That this man accepted him … His appearance, his past … Everything. Oswald had never even thought about being with a man before but … Now, he couldn’t even imagine being with a woman. Couldn’t imagine being with anyone else for that matter. 

“Murphy.” Oswald whispered as he ran his hands down Murphy’s arms. He took his wrists and brought his arms up to rest beside Murphy’s head on the mattress. He pinned his wrists there, though gently, as he leaned forward and kissed him hard, his tongue slipping into his mouth. 

Murphy shivered slightly as Oswald whispered his name, his cock hardening further as Oswald pinned his wrists against the mattress. He was excited by the idea of Oswald taking some control. He hoped he’d get to see more and more of that later on, as Oswald would start to gain experience. He moaned into the kiss, kissing him back just as passionately, his hips moving up against Oswald’s. 

Oswald ran his hands back down Murphy’s arms and to his sides as he started kissing his way down Murphys neck and to his chest, kissing him through his blue shirt and down to his belly. Oswald kept moving downwards, his hands going to the hem of his boxers and tugging them downwards. 

As Oswald kissed his way downward, Murphy’s hands went to run his fingers through Oswald’s hair. It was amazing to see Oswald this confident, and it felt so good to be wanted, to be needed, to be touched. By the time Oswald started tugging down his boxers, he was completely erect. “Do you want to try something new?” Murphy whispered. Though it was too early for what Oswald had suggested, Murphy thought he would probably be ready for this, since he was being so bold tonight. 

Oswald kissed up the length of Murphy's shaft, looking up at him. "Um ... S-sure ..." Oswald said with a little less confidence than he'd had before. 

Murphy drew a sharp intake of breath as Oswald kissed his shaft, and had to pause for a moment to recollect his thoughts. “You could try fingering me, if you’re up for it,” he suggested. “Though you’re not ready to be on the receiving end of anything like that, it could still give you some idea of what it’s supposed to be like.”

"Um ... Yeah of course. You'll ..." Oswald looked around nervously. "You'll have to ... To instruct me how I .... I never ... I mean ..." He was at a loss for words again, his nerves getting to him. "Sure." 

“It’s alright,” Murphy smiled reassuringly, resting his hand lightly against Oswald’s cheek. “I don’t expect you to automatically know what you’re doing. I’ll talk you through it.” He looked down at Oswald, then said: “If you’re sure you’re comfortable with this, that is?”

Oswald glanced down before looking up at Murphy. "I .... Yes." 

Murphy nodded. “Alright,” he said. At this point, even when nervous, Oswald seemed comfortable enough with him that Murphy trusted him to speak up and let him know if he was unsure about anything. “So, when doing anal, you always want to make sure you use lube. Without it, it’ll hurt no matter what you do. I’m pretty sure I have some in my bag, hang on…” 

Murphy went to the side of the bed and reached under to pull out his gym bag. If he’d known they would be doing this tonight, he’d have kept it somewhere more easily accessible. He rummaged through the bag, certain he’d seen a jar of lube in there somewhere… At the time he’d left for Gotham, he hadn’t used it in a while, nor had he foreseen using it again anytime soon, but he hadn’t really had much time to go through and empty all of the bag’s contents before tossing other items in and going on the run. Finally, he located the jar of lube and pulled it out of the bag. He sat up on the bed again, and looked back at Oswald, wondering if he’d found that sudden interruption to search for lube awkward at all.

Oswald listened intently as Murphy fished out the lube from his bag. He supposed Murphy having lube in his bag wasn't that odd ... But it did make him wonder how many lovers he's had in the past ... Or if he had any others right now ... After all it wasn't as if they were committed to each other. 

"Okay." Oswald said simply, nodding as Murphy told him. 

Murphy twisted the lid off of the jar. “So… it’s not too complicated, really. You just put some on my anus, and on anything that you’re about to put in there." Which, in this case, would just be fingers… unless of course Oswald decided he was ready to progress beyond that. But Murphy didn’t really expect that tonight. “You’ll want to use a lot, though, since there’s a pretty big difference between enough to get in easily, and enough for it to be comfortable on the receiving end. I’ll let you know if you need to use more.”

Oswald took the lube nervously. He took some on his fingers and looked at Murphy. "Like this?" 

Murphy nodded. “Yes, like that,” he confirmed. Oswald really was adorable when he was nervous. Murphy pulled down his boxers the rest of the way, setting them aside, and lay back down. He looked up at Oswald to see whether he still seemed okay with this, or if he was confused about anything.

Oswald looked down at Murphy. "I- I don't ... I mean ..." Oswald was nervous. He was scared he'd hurt Murphy, was scared he'd do something wrong. 

“It’s okay,” Murphy reassured him. “You’ll do fine. Just start with one finger at first, and go in slow and gradual. If it hurts even a little, I promise I’ll speak up and tell you.”

Oswald nodded and nervously lowered his hand, he pressed his finger against Murphy's hole, rubbing it gently but afraid to press in. 

Murphy sighed and moved slightly under Oswald’s touch, enjoying just the feeling of Oswald’s finger lightly rubbing against the outside of his sensitive hole. Even just that felt good. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like this.

Oswald watched Murphy’s expression and saw the movement of his hips. Murphy actually liked this? Oswald seemed a bit shocked by that as he slowly pressed his index finger against Murphy's hole. 

Murphy continued to move slightly against Oswald’s hand as his finger pressed slowly against his hole, still not entering. He seemed to have the slow and gradual part down, at least. Though it might still be because Oswald was just timid about the possibility of hurting him. “Y-you’re doing great so far,” he said, hoping that was enough encouragement to get him to start to press inside him a little. But he knew it needed to be gradual, and not just for his own sake. This wouldn’t be at all helpful to Oswald if he wasn’t allowed to go at whatever pace he was comfortable with.

Oswald raised his finger just above his puckered hole and dragged a bit of the lube down back to Murphy's entrance. He pressed his finger inside, slowly going down to the first knuckle, watching Murphy’s face the entire time. 

Murphy moaned softly as Oswald’s finger began to press inside him, but managed to stop before it got any louder. He reached down and ran a hand through Oswald’s hair, looking down to find Oswald watching him intently. Even if Oswald hadn’t yet had a positive experience with this himself… he had to have at least some idea now of what he was doing to Murphy.

Oswald looked down to his finger slowly disappearing into Murphy's ass and bit his lip as he pushed into to the second knuckle, pushing farther and farther until his entire index finger was inside of him. Oswald loved how warm and tight he felt around his finger, his cock hardening to full length at the thought of what it would feel like around his cock. 

Is this what Tony and - Oswald closed his eyes a moment. No he wouldn't think about that .... Not now. 

He pulled his finger almost all the way out before slowly pressing in again. 

Murphy’s eyes closed in pleasure as Oswald’s finger pressed further inside him, one hand tugging lightly at Oswald’s hair, the other gripping the sheets beneath him as he tried not to make any sound in response that could be audible from the other room. He gasped as Oswald pulled his finger most of the way out and started to press in again. Oswald’s slow, careful pace was just right, especially since it had been so long for Murphy, and he was a little tighter than he’d thought he would be.

Oswald looked up at Murphy and smirked as he pressed a second finger into him, slowly sliding it all the way in as he kissed his way up Murphy's shaft. He used his tongue to curl around the tip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on the tip as he pulled his fingers back out. 

Oswald sucked on the tip for a few moments before he pressed his fingers back in, his mouth moving down Murphy's cock at the exact same time and speed. 

Murphy gasped as Oswald started to press a second finger up into him. “Oswald,” Murphy murmured as he felt him kissing his shaft. The man was a natural at this… and possibly slightly evil. When Oswald’s tongue curled around the tip of his cock, Murphy had to press a hand against his own mouth to stifle a moan. His other hand continued to run through Oswald’s hair, and he thrust upward slightly in time to Oswald’s mouth and fingers.

Oswald gagged slightly on his cock as he thrust up against his mouth. He rubbed his own neglected cock against the soft mattress as he moved his fingers in and out of Murphy's ass, his mouth working his cock over and over again. 

Murphy tried to keep his thrusting light, trying to be mindful of gagging Oswald, to remember that Oswald was multitasking here, but… dear God this felt so good. He stifled a couple more moans, trying to get himself under control, before he trusted himself just enough to take his hand away from his own mouth for now, reaching down to rub at Oswald’s shoulders. “Oswald, you’re amazing,” he whispered, struggling to keep his voice down. 

Oswald had to refrain from smirking as he went back down on his shaft, his own hips humping against the soft mattress feeling himself close to cumming. 

“Don’t stop,” Murphy gasped. He was right on the edge, Oswald’s mouth and fingers driving him closer and closer to cumming, and he thrust up against him, trying to keep himself under control, but losing the fight to even string intelligible thoughts together. Without thinking, he murmured: “You’re such a good cocksucker.” Then he came hard, one hand half-consciously going back to his mouth to stifle a moan, the other tugging at Oswald’s hair.

'You're such a good cocksucker' Oswald froze and gagged as Tony's voice rang in his head, a hand tugging his hair. He closed his eyes as he pulled his fingers out of Murphy, clawing at the sheet and coughing as Tony ... No ... no ... Murphy came into his mouth. He backed up, cum spilling onto Murphy’s stomach as he sat back on the bed and looked away from him before turning to sit on the edge of the bed as if wanting to run but was forcing himself to stay. He kept his eyes closed, his breathing coming rapidly as he tried to block that sudden image from his mind. 

It's not Tony. It's Murphy ... It's not Tony. Tony is gone .... 

Murphy lay there, gasping for breath, the haze taking a moment to clear from his thoughts before he realized that something was wrong. He sat up, looking at Oswald, concerned by how frantically he’d pulled away, and the way he was sitting now… “Oswald?” he asked gently. “Are… are you alright?”

Oswald could barely process what Murphy was saying as he tried to calm his breathing before he fell into an anxiety attack. He kept whispering to himself to calm down so quietly Murphy wouldn't be able to understand what he was saying but he focused on that and tried to calm his breathing. 

It wasn't working. The image of those men in the room ... The ones that had ... Oswald shook his head. No .... He was safe here ... Why won't that image leave? 

Murphy could hear that Oswald was whispering something to himself over and over again, but it was too quiet for him to understand what he was saying. “Oswald?” he asked again, seriously worried now. It had been too soon for this after all, or he’d lost control too much at the end, or he’d done something to set this off … Murphy tentatively laid a hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

Oswald jumped, pulling away from Murphy but remaining on the bed. 

"I-I-I-I ..." Oswald stopped talking abruptly realizing he wasn't going to get anything coherent out. He took a deep breath still trying to calm his rapid breathing. 

Murphy let Oswald pull away for now, not wanting to make him feel trapped. He was alarmed by how clearly frightened Oswald was. Had he hurt him somehow, or… or done something else to remind him of what had happened? And if he was the one who’d triggered this, would he even be able to calm him down? He looked back at Oswald in silence for a moment, unsure of what to do, before he reached out again, this time very slowly, avoiding any sudden movements that might startle him, and gently took Oswald’s hand in his, with a light touch that Oswald could easily pull away from if he wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, certain that he must have done something to cause Oswald’s sudden panic. “I… didn’t mean to upset you. You’re safe, I promise.”

Oswald didn't clasp Murphy’s hand but didn't move out of the way either. He finally managed to slow his breathing, tears starting to fall from his reddened eyes. 

After a few moments he pulled his hand out of Murphy's, rubbing the tears off his face. "I'm sorry ..." Oswald said as if he hadn't heard what Murphy had said. "I'm sorry ..." He said again rubbing the tears away now more frustrated than upset. 

Murphy shook his head. “No, Oswald,” he whispered, putting an arm around him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault,” he said firmly. “None of it is.”

Oswald muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an apology for being broken before Oswald turned to Murphy and wrapped his arms around him. 

Murphy took Oswald into his arms, holding him tight in a protective embrace. Oswald’s muttered words pained him. “You’re not broken,” he insisted softly, running a hand soothingly through the back of Oswald’s hair. “Something bad happened, but… but you’re still you. You’re going to be okay.”

"But ..." Oswald still held onto Murphy, feeling stupid for his behaviour. He shouldn't have reacted that way ... He shouldn't be acting like a child .... "I-" Oswald slowly calmed as Murphy moved his hand through the back of his hair. 

Murphy continued to hold Oswald as he started to calm down. “You’re going to be okay,” Murphy repeated. “You’re not broken, you’re a survivor. And you’re stronger than anyone knows. You’re going to be okay.” He kissed Oswald affectionately on the cheek, continuing to run his fingers through Oswald’s hair, since that seemed to be helping. 

More than ever, he wanted the names of who had done this to his Oswald. He wanted to make them pay, to make them feel all the fear and pain they’d caused Oswald a thousand times over. He wanted Oswald to have that final assurance, once and for all, that they would never hurt him again.


	17. Murphy's trouble with the law

Three weeks. Three blissful weeks. Oswald leaned back against the alley wall, a cigarette between his lips. Three weeks and Mooney hadn't done a single thing to him. In fact, for the most part she ignored him except for the occasional order or demand. 

Oswald paused when he heard the slush of shoes in water and stepped back into an alcove in the alley wall. A small man Oswald didn't recognize was walking through the alley towards the staff door. Oswald watched him from the shadows as the man stopped by the door, his hands shoved in his jeans. 

A few minutes later, Murphy stepped out of the staff door, just getting out on break. Catching sight of the man waiting there, Murphy’s expression darkened somewhat, and he glanced around, not seeing anyone else around, before he closed the door behind him and crossed his arms.

“Really Garrett?” he asked, in a tone of annoyance. “You’re doing this during business hours now?”

“You’re on break,” Garrett said with an unpleasant smile. “And you’re a difficult man to get ahold of. No permanent residence or anything … If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“And whose fault is that?” Murphy muttered under his breath.

“Now, now,” Garrett said in a scolding tone. “You’re the one who insisted that I come up with a driver’s license number that wasn’t already taken. A lot of extra work goes into making sure. You knew going in, that creating a sustainable new identity from scratch would cost you. Now, do you have this week’s payment or not?”

Murphy sighed and pulled a handful of cash out of his pocket, handing it to Garrett, who counted it out before tucking it away. “That’s nice for a start,” said Garrett. “But I’ll take what you’ve been making in tips as well.”

Murphy gave Garrett an annoyed look, but there was a hint of desperation in his voice when he spoke. “You’re killing me here, Garrett,” he said quietly. “At least leave me with something this week? You’ve already got the agreed-upon weekly payment.”

“Not my problem,” said Garrett. “And it’s still not enough to make up for that dry week awhile back. Now, I gave you the benefit of the doubt that Miss. Mooney really did have you away from tending the bar a couple nights, but if you’re going to hold out on me, maybe I should bring some backup next time, see how my boys feel about your excuses.”

“You’re not going to do that,” Murphy said, his voice and outward appearance calm. “You know who I work for, and how she feels about outside parties messing with her employees.”

Garrett’s smile widened. “Oh, she wouldn’t have to know. As long as my men don’t leave any bruises where she can see them … who’s going to tell her? You really going to go running to Fish Mooney and tell her you’ve been lying to her about who you really are? Seems a little reckless for a guy so desperate to fly under the radar.”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” Murphy said, glaring back at Garrett. He pulled out a few more bills from his pocket and handed them over.

“That all?” said Garrett skeptically.

“It’s what I have,” said Murphy. “If you don’t like it, then let me get back to work and earn more.”

“Watch your attitude, kid,” Garrett smirked, patting Murphy on the shoulder. “Expect me back soon with a few friends.”

“You do that,” Murphy said, heading back inside, the door swinging shut behind him.

The transaction over, Garrett started to make his way down the alley, hands in his pockets, whistling a carefree little tune as he walked.

Oswald couldn't believe the entire transaction. Murphy had a fake ID? Murphy wasn't Murphy .... Then who the hell was he? 

After the door shut Oswald moved forward. Before this man, Garrett, had a chance to get out of the alley he grabbed onto him and slammed him into the wall, his hand going into his pocket to retrieve the knife Mooney had given him a week previous and pressed it against his neck. 

"You're going to tell me exactly what that was ..." Oswald said pressing the knife a little harder. "In ten words or less." 

Garrett froze as the knife pressed against his throat. There was no one to call for help, certainly no one who could get there before this man slit his throat, especially in Mooney's alley. “I-I sold him a fake I.D.,” he stammered quickly. “He’s from out of town, that’s all I know.”

"You're not very good at instructions are you?" Oswald asked. "Who is he?" He asked. 

“H-he wouldn’t tell me,” Garrett said, shaking. “Just that he wanted to disappear, didn’t want anyone following him to Gotham. I don’t even know where he’s really from.”

Oswald glanced over at a piece of metal that was jutting out from a broken fire escape. "Well .... That's unfortunate." 

“That’s all I know, I swear,” Garrett said frantically. “You want better answers, you’ll have to question him.”

"Oh believe me. I intend to. Unfortunately that doesn't help you at all." Oswald said patting Garrett’s cheek with his free hand. 

“W-wait,” said Garrett. “I’ve told you everything I know. I know important people, you … there would be consequences. Just … Let’s just go our separate ways and forget this happened, alright?”

"Oh don't worry about me Garrett. They won't find your body." He said with a smirk as he pulled the knife away from his throat so quickly he scraped his jaw. He grabbed onto the front of Garrett’s t-shirt, twisting him to the side and shoving him backwards so hard he fell back. The broken metal of the fire escape stabbed through Garrett’s stomach like a knife through butter, red blood coating the metal. 

Oswald looked at Garrett who was still very much alive and surprisingly silent, most likely in shock. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it into Garrett’s mouth. "Here." He said taking Garretts hand. "Let me give you a hand." He smirked as he pulled Garrett forward. Garretts scream was muffled by the makeshift gag in his mouth as he tugged him forward. 

It took a few pulls but he managed to get him off, Garrett collapsing to his knees, still screaming through the gag. 

"Oh come now .... Get up." Oswald said dragging the small man to his feet and forcing him to walk down the alley. The man collapsed a few feet away from the dumpster and Oswald shook his head as the man shivered on the ground. He glanced up as he heard a ripple of thunder in the distance. He looked down at Garrett and crouched down next to him. "Something similar happened to me years ago ... I lived like this for seven hours once ... If you're lucky maybe someone will find you come morning ... Just ... Try to stay awake. You’ll want to inform them you’re in here before they throw you in the trash compactor." He said grabbing onto him and heaving him towards the dumpster. He leaned him up against it and tilted his head, looking down at Garretts necklace. He reached around pulling the clasp open. It was a strange design, made out of some kind of bone, a bit of blood spattered on the off white hook shaped pendant.

He pocketed the necklace, and took the money out of Garretts pocket, a wad much larger than what Murphy had given him. He pocketed the money in his other pocket and grabbed onto Garrett. Garrett struggled against him weakly, still screaming through the gag in fear and agony, but he couldn’t even stand up on his own, let alone get away.

Oswald pressed him against the dumpster, struggling with the weakly flailing man but managed to push him up and over into the dumpster hearing a dull thud and a muffled scream from within. 

Oswald moved back towards the employee door and stepped inside as it started drizzling outside. Oswald moved up to the bar and waited for Murphy to finish with his customer. 

Murphy finished mixing the customer’s Old Fashioned and started a tab for him, reminding him that closing time was in another couple of hours, before turning to Oswald. “Hey,” he smiled, brightening a little just at seeing him. “You off early tonight?” He’d be glad when his shift was up too and they could head home together.

"Yeah it was over about 20 minutes ago. I had to call mother. She's .... She's not feeling well. I'm going to head home now." He said as if nothing was wrong between them. "Make sure she's okay." 

“Oh,” said Murphy, concerned. Gertrud hadn’t really been taking care of herself since she’d heard about William. “Yeah, go make sure she’s alright. Be careful on your way back, okay?”

"I will." Oswald said walking out the front door instead of the employee door, his hands in his pockets, his fingers playing with the bone hook. 

\---

When Murphy’s shift ended, it was raining in earnest, and he pulled his overcoat close around him as he hurried through the streets, making his way back to Oswald’s apartment complex. He let himself into the building and made his way tiredly up the stairs. When he reached the apartment door, he found that Oswald had left it unlocked for him. He let himself in, and found Oswald sitting on the couch. “How’s your mom doing?” Murphy asked, taking off his coat as he entered, his hair still damp from the rain.

"She's not here." Oswald said looking up at him from his place on the couch. "Went out with her sister around ... Seven? Eight? She won't be back until morning." Oswald said calmly. 

“Um… okay,” said Murphy, confused. Though Oswald seemed completely calm, something about his manner still felt strange. “So… why did you tell me you had to come home to see her?”

"Because I needed to discuss something with you .... I didn't think it would be appropriate to do so at Mooney’s and I didn't trust myself to sit there waiting for you ..." He said calmly despite the anger that was burning inside of him. 

“Alright then,” said Murphy, a little uneasy now. “What did you want to talk about?”

Oswald stared at him a few moments, his green eyes trained on Murphy. Finally after a bit of silence Oswald spoke. "What's your real name, Murphy?" 

Murphy stiffened, and just stood silently staring back at Oswald for a long moment. He thought about lying. He thought about pretending not to understand what Oswald was getting at. But if he already knew … Anyway, hadn’t he always known that if things between him and Oswald continued long enough, he’d have to tell him the truth eventually? Finally, he found his voice again, and said quietly: “How did you find out?”

Oswald reached into his pocket and tossed the necklace onto the table. "I'm not going to ask again Murphy ... What is your real name?" 

Seeing Garrett’s necklace, Murphy went slightly pale. What exactly had Oswald done? He forced himself to meet Oswald’s eyes. “It’s… it used to be A.J.,” he said, his voice low. “I guess … I owe you an explanation.”

"I think you owe me more than an explanation A.J." He said. "That's not even a name it's your initials .... If you're even telling me the truth this time." 

Murphy winced at that comment. “It’s what I went by for most of my life,” he said, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the room from Oswald. “My… given name was Augie Jamison Ross,” he said, looking embarrassed. There was a reason he’d always gone by A.J. “After both of my grandfathers, apparently …” He was quiet for a moment, then said: “Oswald, why does Garrett’s pendant have blood on it?”

"I'm sure he could still tell you." He said calmly. "For now .... But it's not him I’d be worried about right now." Oswald said. "Who are you?" 

Murphy looked down at the floor, trying not to think about what Oswald meant by that. He was still afraid to tell him, for all of the reasons that had kept him silent before. But now he was afraid of Oswald’s unpredictable anger in addition. “I …” he said in barely above a whisper, not looking up. “This isn’t how I would have wanted you to find out.”

"Murphy .... A.J. .... I'm giving you thirty seconds to give me a reason not to kick your ass to the curb and you better make it good .... One ... Two ..." 

Murphy looked up at Oswald. He didn’t want to lose him, not now, not like this. “I’m wanted for murder,” he blurted out, his voice shaking slightly. “In a state that still uses the death penalty.” Once he managed to get that out, he continued speaking in a rush. “And it’s … it’s really obvious that I did it, and it was a mayor’s son, and … and …” He took a deep breath. “If … if you kick me out after this, that’s … that’s fine. But, please, none of what I’m telling you can leave this room.”

Oswald laughed bitterly. "So you know exactly who I am, I give you a roof over your head despite not even having a place of my own and living on government issued food, I tell you everything I've done .... And you still kept this from me?" Oswald asked. He shook his head. "Every time I turn around, Murphy you give me another reason not to trust you ..." 

“I don’t remember ever demanding that you tell me those things; you chose to do that,” said Murphy, hurt. “This is the only thing I’ve ever deceived you about. So I haven’t been using the name my mother gave me, and I haven’t told you about my past. But … I’ve still been me. I … I wanted to tell you. But when exactly should I have done that? I couldn’t exactly have been upfront about it when I met you. And … when you told me about the people you’d killed, I … I thought about it, I really did, but … I was still afraid.”

Oswald nodded. “I see … And within the entire four weeks we’ve … Since you moved in, out of all the time we’ve spent together you couldn’t have mustered a simple ‘Hey I need to talk to you.’?” He asked. He stared at Murphy, that calm anger clear on his face. “Leave.” Oswald said motioning towards the door. “Grab your bag and go.” 

Murphy looked as if Oswald had just slapped him in the face. At first, he was too stunned to speak, then he managed to get out the words: “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you.” He found himself blinking back tears. “I just wasn’t ready yet … Can you please forgive me for that? You’re … you’re all I have.” Even if Oswald didn’t fully trust him … he had to know that Murphy deeply cared about him. He’d done everything he could think of to show him that.

Oswald stared at Murphy and took a deep breath. “I don’t trust you …” Oswald said. “And I’m sure as hell not happy with you.” He said leaning forward and picking up Garrett’s necklace. “No … I won’t forgive you … But that doesn’t mean you can’t prove to me that you deserve forgiveness.” 

“How?” Murphy asked, sitting up a little straighter. “What do you want me to do?”

“That’s entirely up to you.” He said standing up and tossing the necklace to Murphy. “You’re sleeping on the couch.” 

Murphy caught the necklace, still more than a little disturbed by its implications. “That’s … fair, I guess,” he admitted. Then he looked up at Oswald. “Seriously, though, what did you do with Garrett?”

“He’s in the dumpster outside of Mooney’s. The garbage men will pick it up tomorrow morning … No one will find him. Hopefully for his sake he’s dead by the time he’s thrown into the trash compactor.” He said carelessly as he walked towards his room. 

Murphy stared, wide-eyed, after Oswald as he walked away, then looked down at the bloody necklace in his hand, feeling sick. Granted … there was only so much he could say. He’d killed once before. And he hadn’t been humane about it. But… this seemed like an excessively gruesome end for just a threatening debt-collector. “You … Am I supposed to feel grateful or horrified?”

“You can feel however you want. I really don’t care.” Oswald said, going into his room and slamming the door shut. A few seconds later the door opened again, Murphy’s blue bag being thrown into the bathroom so hard it hit the wall on the other side before the door slammed shut again. 

Murphy winced as his bag hit the wall, but at least Oswald had bothered to throw it out of the room at all. “You could have just handed it to me, you know!” Murphy yelled, before he sighed, and stood up to go retrieve the bag. Given how pissed Oswald was, this was admittedly the best scenario Murphy could have hoped for. 

He paused for a moment, looking forlornly at the door that was now closed to him. He reminded himself that he was lucky he even got to stay in the apartment. But Oswald still wanted nothing to do with him right now, and that hurt just as much inside as it would have out in the rain. Resignedly, Murphy retreated to the couch, where he spent a sleepless night missing the comforting feeling of Oswald lying next to him. He lay awake trying to think of how he was going to earn Oswald’s forgiveness, to prove without a doubt how much he still cared for him … and trying very hard not to think about Garrett in the trash compactor. By morning, he thought he had the answer.


	18. The gift of vengeance

Five weeks and Oswald still wasn’t talking to Murphy unless he absolutely had to. He was civil towards him in the company of other employees, but when they were on their own Oswald became quiet and cold. Things had become quite awkward at home. Even Gertrud, who tried to keep the peace, could feel the tension between them. 

For five weeks, Murphy had been completely miserable. Whenever Oswald was remotely civil to him, even knowing that it was just for professionalism’s sake, Murphy responded with a kind of desperate hopefulness that he knew was beyond pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. That was all the interaction he got from Oswald these days, and he would take what he could get until his plan was complete. Whenever Oswald was cold to him, Murphy effectively shut down, looking continually upset and not saying much to anyone. If they weren’t at work when this happened, Murphy would abruptly leave and say he was going for a walk… which had helped him take time to work on the plan. 

He was so close now. Four down, one more to go. But the first four had stopped being cooperative, no matter what he did; they were more afraid of this Tony bastard than they were of him … which lately was saying something. But he still had nothing to go on, no face to put to a name, no other information on the man’s description or whereabouts. It was maddening; anytime someone he didn’t recognize came to the bar, Murphy wondered if he might be talking to the monster at any moment. But he had to bide his time; he couldn’t give up on this. This would only work if he had all five.

“Tony.” Mooney said as she sauntered from her table to greet her old friend. “I didn’t know you were coming by, I would have saved you a table.” She said as Tony entered the nightclub. Oswald stiffened and looked over at Tony, but resumed pouring Mooney’s drink as he had been instructed before she’d gotten up. 

“Well, the boys have been … scarce lately. You know how they are sometimes. Out partying.” He said with a laugh as Mooney led him over to her own table. Oswald poured him a drink as well and jumped when Tony touched his leg just under his ass. “Hey Ozzie …” Tony said smirking. Oswald forced himself to smile but felt and looked like he was going to be sick. “Ready for another go?” He asked pulling Oswald into his lap. 

Murphy’s hands clenched into fists behind the bar, glaring daggers and swords and an entire armory at the man as he harassed Oswald right in front of everybody. Oh, he’d found the fifth one, alright. The hard part now would be to restrain himself from lunging over the bar to strangle him at first sight. He would have to force himself to wait, to follow the man out when he left, to refrain from repeatedly bashing Tony’s skull into the pavement…

“Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?” said Murphy, forcing a polite smile, hoping to at least momentarily distract some of Tony’s unwanted attention away from Oswald. “Pick your poison.”

And how very, very dearly Murphy would have loved to make that expression literal. But no, he had to wait. Tony would be out ‘partying’ with the others soon enough.

“No … Thank you.” He said, his hand running up Oswald’s thigh making Oswald squirm nervously. 

“Tony … Hands off the merchandise. That one’s not for sale.” Mooney said sipping her drink. 

“Oh but we had so much fun last time.” Tony said, Oswald squirming to get away as Tony neared the crotch of his pants. 

“Tony.” Mooney said warningly. “I gave him to you once for free, there is no seconds. You can pay for one of my boys if you want, but this one isn’t for sale. He’s not an entertainer, he’s my umbrella boy.” Mooney said as Tony let go of Oswald. He awkwardly stood up from Tony’s lap and backed away from the table slightly. 

“E-Excuse me.” He said as Mooney waved him off. Oswald ran to the bathroom, the feeling of nausea getting worse. 

Murphy breathed a covert sigh of relief as poor Oswald was allowed to get away, most likely to go throw up in the bathroom. Murphy still wanted to tear the bastard limb from limb for doing that to Oswald … but now that Oswald was out of immediate danger, he could force himself to wait until the moment was right. He went back to his business of tending the bar, taking the other customers’ drink orders, still keeping a careful eye on Tony, ready to act the moment the man showed signs of being ready to leave.

Oswald sighed a breath of relief a few hours later as his shift ended, Tony still sitting at the table with Mooney, now a few too many drinks in him. Oswald left the bar not bothering to say goodbye to Murphy as became habit the last few weeks and headed back home, not even sparing a glance back at Tony. 

Murphy gave Oswald a sympathetic glance as he left, but he didn’t think Oswald noticed. This time, Murphy didn’t blame him for ignoring him. No doubt he had bigger worries on his mind. At least he’d gotten out of here safely without anything else happening to him. Murphy continued to keep a subtle eye on Tony afterward, hoping he wouldn’t leave before Murphy’s shift was up. If that happened, it would be hard enough coming up with an excuse to go after him in the first place, let alone come up with an alibi later if anyone noticed when Tony went missing.

At closing when Murphy’s shift ended, Mooney stood up and looked down at Tony. “Alright closing time.” She said nudging Tony’s foot. She addressed the entire club, or at least the few remaining customers. “I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here.” She said waving everyone off. Tony stood up from his chair, a bit wobbly on his feet as he headed for the door.

Murphy forced himself to act casual, as if he were just heading home after an ordinary night without any strong sense of urgency as he headed to the door behind Tony. He kept enough of a following distance that any of the customers or other staff heading out would have no reason to suspect that he was following the staggering, drunken man. Not that anyone looked like they were paying attention. But it wouldn’t do to get careless at this point.

Blocks away from Mooney's, Tony staggered again and fell forward, for a moment leaning on a wall. Perhaps he shouldn't have had so much to drink, he couldn't even see straight. 

“Need a hand, there?” Murphy asked, reaching out as if to help steady him. He cringed inwardly at being in such close proximity to the man, knowing what he’d done, knowing how he’d hurt Oswald… But he’d get what he had coming to him soon enough. If Tony refused assistance, or if he later realized that Murphy was leading him in the wrong direction, he could always knock him unconscious. But he’d have an easier time of it if he didn’t have to drag an unconscious man the whole way.

Tony looked at the man, his head leaning back against the wall as he snarled at him. "Who a .... Eck are y-you?" Tony asked. 

Murphy laughed. “You really have had a few too many, haven’t you?” he said, forcing a friendly tone. “I work at Mooney’s. I just noticed you were having a little trouble there, and we seem to be heading the same direction.”

“Yeah? Piss off.” Tony said pushing himself away from the wall and slowly stumbling farther down the street until he pulled himself into an alley to cut across to the next street. 

Murphy followed along at a leisurely pace, picking up a metal trashcan lid that he found in the alley; in Tony’s state, there was hardly any danger of him getting away. “Now really,” he said, coming up behind Tony. “It wouldn’t hurt you to at least be polite.” He brought the metal lid down hard on the back of Tony’s head, dropping the brutish man to the concrete. “Of course,” he added, tossing the lid aside. “It wouldn’t have helped you either.” 

He stooped down and pulled the unconscious man’s arm over his shoulder, his skin crawling at having to touch the bastard, and proceeded to drag him along. If anyone happened to see them, it would look as if Murphy were just helping a friend home from the bar after a few too many drinks. If anyone bothered to care, anyway.

\--- 

The sound of soft snoring came from Oswald's room as Oswald slept. His blankets were tossed haphazardly around the bed as if he'd struggled with them previously. He lay on his stomach, one arm hanging off the bed, his knuckles lightly resting against the floor. 

Murphy let himself into the apartment quietly, knowing Gertrud had probably gone to bed hours ago. As for Oswald, it could go either way. It was late by now, so there was a good chance he’d gone to sleep … but then, after encountering Tony at Mooney’s again tonight, he might not have been able to. Either way, he wasn’t going to appreciate being bothered at this hour. As Murphy approached Oswald’s room, however, the sound of soft snoring answered that question for him. He stood in the doorway a moment, hesitating. Should he just let him sleep? He’d had a pretty rough day, and would probably be too pissed off at Murphy for waking him to follow him anywhere. And Murphy had waited this long. As painful as it was, he could make himself wait one more night if he had to … But then, they were less likely to be seen at this hour than in the daylight. And tomorrow when Gertrud was awake, it would be harder to get Oswald alone to have a word with him, and then to slip away without explanation…

No. He needed to do this now. He walked over and sat down on the side of the bed. “Oswald?” he said softly. It had been a few long weeks since Murphy had seen Oswald sleeping. He looked less peaceful now, somehow, than he had when he’d fallen asleep in Murphy’s arms. He gently shook Oswald’s shoulder. “Oswald, wake up.”

As soon as Murphy touched his shoulder Oswald startled awake and moved away from him, nearly falling off the other side. He sat up in bed and looked at Murphy as if trying to process where he was. 

Once he got his bearings he picked up his shirt from the floor and put it on. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Oswald hissed at him angrily. 

“Sorry,” said Murphy. “I wasn’t trying to startle you. But there’s something you really need to see.”

"Get out of my room, Murphy." He said annoyed as he crawled back into bed. "You don't have anything I care to see at this goddamn hour." He said glancing at his clock. 

“I know it’s late,” said Murphy. “But please, Oswald, it’s really important. And I’m pretty sure this is something you’ll want to see. Just come with me, and then I’ll leave you alone and you can go back to bed if you want to.”

Oswald didn't say anything as he turned over and pulled the blanket up to his chin, effectively ignoring Murphy entirely. 

“Oh, yes that’s mature,” Murphy muttered sarcastically, looking down at the blanket cocoon that Oswald had barricaded himself in. He considered, for a moment, telling Oswald exactly what he’d done for him … but was fairly certain that unless he saw it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe him. Especially right now. “Am I going to have to start poking you until you get up?” he said, frustrated. He’d worked his ass off for over a month preparing for this moment, but Oswald would rather give him the silent treatment than actually come and see what he’d accomplished. “Because so help me, I will.”

"I said leave Murphy." Oswald said. If either of them were acting immature it was Murphy. "Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm fully conscious." 

“No, it can’t,” said Murphy, poking Oswald somewhere in the vicinity of his ribs, just as he’d threatened. “Because you and I both know you have no intention of listening to me or going anywhere with me in the morning either. You’ll just go right back to ignoring me and avoiding me exactly the way you’ve been doing. And it’s not fair, because you said you’d give me a chance to earn your forgiveness, but I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to do that when I can never get your attention. Now stop being a blanket burrito and come see this.”

Oswald groaned and threw off his blanket. "This had better be good." He said rubbing his eyes as he pulled his pants on. 

“It is,” Murphy promised, finding Oswald’s shoes and handing them to him. “I know you don’t believe me right now, but you’ll be glad you decided to come with me.” This would work. It had to. Otherwise, Murphy was out of ideas.

Oswald put his shoes on, haphazardly lacing them up and pulling on his jacket. He followed after Murphy into the cold night air. 

Murphy led the way for two blocks, his pace quick with nerves, anxious to arrive and for Oswald to finally understand. He didn’t say anything as they went; he knew Oswald was in no mood to talk to him anyway. They made their way down a dilapidated alleyway, across a vacant lot, finally arriving at an abandoned warehouse. Murphy unlocked a padlock that he’d attached to the door handles, and pushed open the creaking door. It was still dark inside for the moment.

"You taking me in here to kill me?" Oswald half joked. Was Murphy getting tired of him ignoring him? What could Murphy possibly have in here that he'd 'want to see'? The entire situation was making Oswald extremely nervous. 

“Of course not,” Murphy said, moderately offended, then frowned and admitted: “Though I see how you might think that … but still, no.” He flipped a switch and the lights came on. There, in the center of the large, dusty room, amidst the abandoned crates, Tony and his four comrades were all bound hand and foot, gagged, and each chained to one of the concrete pillars supporting the ceiling. The first four showed varying degrees of bruising, and had been expertly bandaged over other wounds, some fresh enough that blood still showed through the gauze. Deebo, who had been here the longest, looked the worst off. Tony looked entirely unharmed, though Murphy knew he probably had a nasty bump on the back of his head and an excruciating headache.

Oswald took a moment for his eyes to adjust when he finally looked around the room. "Murphy what did-" Oswald paused when recognition hit him and he backed away, his back pressing against the wall behind him. 

Murphy watched Oswald’s reaction anxiously. He reached out and put a steadying hand on Oswald’s shoulder as he backed away. “Oswald?” he said, concerned. Maybe he’d been wrong about this. Maybe seeing all five of them together at all, even in this context, was just too upsetting for him. Murphy should have thought of that. He’d completely blown it. “I-I’m sorry. I just…” Murphy sighed and looked down at the floor. “I just … wanted to give you complete assurance that they could never, under any circumstances, hurt you again. I… initially planned to just kill them all, but … but I thought maybe you might get more closure out of taking revenge yourself.” He met Oswald’s eyes again. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

Oswald stayed against the wall as he watched the five men, Tony starting to stir where he was bound to the pillar. Oswald felt his entire body go numb as Tony looked up at him. 

“Oswald,” Murphy said firmly. “They can’t hurt you. You’re in control now, not them.” He took a deep breath, then said: “If you’re uncomfortable with this, you can leave. I’ll take care of things. Then ... if … if you don’t want to see me again after this, I won’t bother you.” He should have thought this through better. He’d been so focused on how to accomplish it, that he hadn’t questioned whether he actually should. He’d just wanted so badly to make sure they never hurt Oswald again, to make them pay for what they’d done to him … but this didn’t seem to be helping Oswald at all. 

Oswald moved behind Murphy so that he couldn't see Tony staring at him anymore. "Get rid of them." He said, his fingers clutching Murphy's jacket. "All of them ...." 

Murphy nodded. “Do you care how I do it?” he asked. He wanted to let Oswald be in control here, even if he was still too traumatized to go near them.

"Just do it." Oswald said letting go of Murphy and leaning back against the wall again, unable to look at the men who had hurt him all those weeks ago. 

“Consider it done,” Murphy said, with a pained expression at how afraid Oswald still was, even now. He turned away from Oswald, his expression hardening as his eyes fixed on the men who had done this to him. It had taken every last ounce of self control he had just to let them live this long. And now that Oswald had requested their death … Murphy couldn’t have held himself back even if he wanted to. 

He walked over to one of the dusty old crates. Sitting on top of the box were a selection of weapons he’d set aside for this, not knowing what Oswald would prefer. Two knives, a pistol, a crowbar, among others… Every single one of them seemed far too quick after all the pain and fear and humiliation they’d caused Oswald. He settled on the crowbar. He strode up to the one farthest from Tony, and with a vicious snarl, swung the crowbar down at him relentlessly, again and again and again, as hard as he possibly could, never doing enough damage, never causing enough pain. The muffled screams drew no sympathy from him; all he could think of was what the bastards had done, and how he hadn’t been there to stop them, and the way Oswald’s broken sobs had sounded from the next room that night… And as he continued to beat the monster to a bloody pulp, he felt his own sense of despair build even further, because no matter how hard he swung, how much suffering he caused, he would never be able to undo what these men had done to Oswald… And knowing that made him even more furious, more vicious.

Oswald watched Murphy unleash on the men who stood no chances against him. He sat down on the ground watching him beat one after the other, each one taking quite a few minutes to quiet and still in their binds. When Murphy raised the crowbar to swing at Tony, Oswald called out to him. 

"Wait." Oswald said standing from where he sat. 

Oswald’s voice intruded on Murphy’s anger, and he paused, lowering the crowbar reluctantly, and turned to Oswald, his expression calming somewhat. “What is it?” he asked. He realized for the first time that he was breathing hard, his heart pounding.

"I want him." Oswald said coming up to them though he looked as if he wanted to be as far away from Tony as possible.

Murphy nodded. “He’s all yours, then,” he said, holding out the bloody crowbar to Oswald.

Oswald ignored the crowbar Murphy handed to him and picked up the pistol that was on the table. 

Oswald saw the relief on Tony's face as he approached him. "Oh don't worry." Oswald said. "I'm not making it quick." He said aiming the pistol at the spot between Tony's legs. 

Tony’s eyes widened as he saw where Oswald was aiming the pistol. He struggled against his bonds, shouting frantic protests that were muffled by the gag. Murphy stood back watching. He reflected that he probably should feel at least a little sorry for the bastard. But he just couldn’t. After what Tony and his men had done … it only seemed fitting. And if Oswald got to take back some sense of control, Murphy approved wholeheartedly.

Oswald didn't even hesitate as he pulled the trigger, Tony screaming in pain through his gag as Oswald put the gun down and turned away from him. 

Murphy looked back at Oswald, trying to read his expression. “How are you feeling?” he asked after a moment.

Oswald listened to the sound of Tony screaming and had to admit ... He felt as if a weight had been lifted. "I'm fine." He said looking at Murphy. 

“That’s … that’s good,” said Murphy, a little uncertainly. He wasn’t positive that this had helped Oswald as much as he’d hoped, but at least he’d never have to worry about these men ever again. Murphy also wasn’t sure where he and Oswald stood after this. And now didn’t seem like the best time to ask. So instead, he asked: “I don’t suppose you have any experience hiding a body?”

"Quite a bit ... Or at least a decent knowledge .... I've never had to hide five at the same time though." He said. "How long have they been here?" 

Murph pointed at the first one he’d killed. “He’s been here almost five weeks. I didn’t know how to find the others at first. Those three have been here four, three, and two and a half weeks respectively. And Tony just joined us tonight.”

Oswald nodded. "So no fear of anyone finding the bodies." He said looking at Tony who was still thrashing in pain. "At least not anytime soon. Leave them here .... We'll deal with them tomorrow night." He said. "I'm tired I want to go back to bed." 

“That sounds good,” Murphy agreed. Now that he thought about it, he was exhausted. “And I did drag you out of bed for this,” he said with an apologetic smile. He knew he still shouldn’t get his hopes up that things between him and Oswald could go back to the way they were before, but… he was at least talking to him. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

Oswald glanced back at Tony who was still struggling, though he seemed to be doing it less so now than before, and wondered how long it would take the man to bleed to death. He closed the door and allowed Murphy to lock it before they headed home.


	19. A matter of trust

Oswald yawned when they go back to the apartment, the sound of his mother snoring from her room filtered quietly into the living room. Oswald quietly kicked off his shoes and padded towards his bedroom. 

Murphy also removed his shoes, setting them neatly aside, before heading tiredly toward his designated place on the couch.

Oswald looked over at Murphy and shook his head. “Well, come on.” He said nodding his head towards the bedroom. He moved towards a drawer nearby and pulled out a small tool box. He pulled a screwdriver out of the box and put the box back in the drawer before heading back to his room. 

Murphy looked back at Oswald in surprise for a moment, before a huge smile lit up his face, and he followed quickly after Oswald. “What’s the screwdriver for?” he asked in a low voice, not wanting to wake up Gertrud.

Once inside, Oswald moved to one of his dressers and pulled a small package out. It was a small slide latch lock. “I was going to install it back when you first came in but … Since you weren’t staying in here I didn’t see a point.” He said popping open the case and shutting his door. He quietly started screwing the lock into place. It took some time to get all six screws in, but finally it was on the door. He slid it in and out a few times making sure it worked, before he left it locked. 

“But you’ve taken away the thrill of risk,” Murphy said jokingly, his brief smirk fading before he said more seriously: “You could have installed it to keep me out,” he said quietly. “When you weren’t talking to me, I mean.” But he hadn’t. As untrusting as Oswald was, and as angry as he’d been, he still hadn’t.

“Why?” Oswald asked. “Had you been planning on doing anything to me?” Oswald asked suspiciously, though he knew Murphy wouldn’t have. He’d have too much to lose. Not just him, though he didn’t consider himself much to lose, but he had a roof over his head which Oswald could easily take away from him. 

“Not much,” said Murphy nonchalantly. “Just waking you up at some ungodly hour to convince you to be an accomplice to murder … And also maybe poking you.” He sighed. “But I don’t understand. You made it clear you didn’t trust me anymore, you didn’t want me in here, you didn’t want to deal with me if you could avoid it … but you kept the lock in a drawer instead of using it to make sure I wouldn’t bother you. Why?”

“I didn’t trust you, but you’re not stupid Murphy. I know that.” He said crawling into bed. “I still don’t trust you, you haven’t really given me a reason to. But I’ll forgive you.” He said quietly. 

Murphy looked down at Oswald, a mixture of conflicting emotions in his eyes. He was grateful for Oswald’s forgiveness. After all, wasn’t that the goal he’d been working toward relentlessly for five weeks? Shouldn’t he be satisfied with that? But… it hurt that he was still so far away from earning Oswald’s trust. And he still didn’t think Oswald understood how much he meant to him, or that he would ever mean quite as much to Oswald.

“Thank you,” he said softly, climbing into bed next to Oswald. “For forgiving me. I… guess I can’t really expect your trust for awhile. Especially since I didn’t completely give you mine either.” He paused, then said: “From now on, if you ever have any questions about my past, or who I was, I’ll answer them. No more secrets.” Oswald already knew enough to incriminate him anyway… and despite how angry he’d been, he had still kept his secret. 

Oswald yawned as he turned over in bed, not cuddling up next to Murphy as had been habit back before all this had happened. He allowed Murphy back into his bed, which he hadn't even planned on doing. Besides .... He was still a bit pissy about being woken up at two in the damn morning. 

Murphy couldn’t help feeling a little upset as Oswald turned away from him, not cuddling up to him as he had before. He knew there was only so much he could expect right now, but he wanted so badly to just hold him, to feel that physical reassurance that things could be alright between them again. What if Oswald never felt completely safe with him again? What if he never learned to trust him? What if… He needed to stop thinking like this. At least he was in the bed again. Giving him another chance probably wasn’t easy for Oswald. But… even so, Murphy didn’t really feel forgiven. He closed his eyes to sleep, but kept opening them again to check that Oswald was still there, that he hadn’t just dreamed it all. It was a long while before Murphy finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

\----- 

The rattle of the door knob woke Oswald the next morning. 

"Oswald?" He heard his mother's worried voice. "Oswald open this door! Why do you do these things? Oswald!" Oswald smacked Murphy in the arm to wake him up. 

"Get under the bed." He hissed, already moving towards the door. 

“Wh-what?” Murphy mumbled, blinking awake. Then, hearing Gertrud’s voice at the door, Oswald’s words started to register in his brain. He scrambled out of the covers, dove for the floor, and crawled quickly under the bed.

Oswald undid the lock and opened the door, standing in the way of the view of the room. 

Gertrud looked nearly beside herself with worry. “Oswald, what are you hiding in here from your own mother that you need a lock for? Don’t you know that is dangerous? What if you hurt yourself or were sick and I couldn’t get in to help you because of this,” she gestured at the door. “This thing?”

"Mother, I'm a grown man. I need my privacy. It wouldn't be any different than if I lived alone. You keep walking in here without knocking first. What if I had a someone over?"

“If you had someone over!?” the small woman erupted with anger. She exploded into an animated tirade in German before finally calming down just enough to yell at him in English. “It is not appropriate for you to be ‘having someone over’ in your bedroom with you behind a locked door! Who would you be having over that you would need privacy from your own mother! I will not have you bringing home one of those devious little hussies!” 

She craned her neck around the doorframe, looking past Oswald to as if to see if he had some foul temptress stashed away in his bedroom. But she saw no such horrible apparition, nor could she detect any hint of cheap perfume in the air. Her precious boy was still safe from their whorish clutches for now. She clasped both of his shoulders, looking her son sternly in the eye. “You must not let any of these hussies fool you with their wicked words or their big-city ways,” she said. “They are all the same; all they want is to get you rifling through their demon-purses, and all you will find in there are sin and diseases.”

Under the bed, Murphy had to clamp a hand over his own mouth and hold his breath to keep from laughing out loud.

"Mother, there is no hussy." He said stepping away from the door and letting her in. If he kept barring her way in she would grow more suspicious. "But I'm an adult now, Mother. You can't keep treating me like a child forever. What if I meet someone I like? I mean you and dad were younger than me when you had Jason and you weren't even married." He said sitting on the bed. "What if I find someone I love who .... Who loves me back?" 

Gertrud sighed, and went to sit down on the bed next to Oswald. Under the bed, Murphy went very still, hardly daring to breathe, listening intently. 

“My dear son,” Gertrud said, patting the side of Oswald’s face. “The way that your father and I did things … it was not the right way. If you find real love, you can wait, because they are not going anywhere. Of course you deserve to be loved, but …” But who could care about him more than she did? Who could possibly deserve her perfect son enough to take him away from her? “But I do not want to see you get hurt. There are so many people out there who care for nothing but themselves, who will use the word ‘love’ only to use people.” She shook her head. “How can you know who to trust?”

"I ...." Oswald paused. "I don't know. I want to trust hi-" Oswald paused. "Them ... I know they care about me .... But recently ..." Oswald wanted to talk to his mom about this, but Murphy was under the bed and ... Well his mother just wouldn't understand. There was no way she’d accept him being gay. She was so ... Old-fashioned in her beliefs. 

Under the bed, Murphy listened anxiously. So Oswald believed that he cared about him, at least. That was a start. Was it really eavesdropping if the person talking knew you were there, and had told you to hide under the bed in the first place? Maybe not, he reflected, but it was still extremely awkward.

“What happened recently?” Gertrud said softly. “You know you can tell your mother anything.”

Oswald smiled at his mother. "It's nothing." He said putting on the fake smile he'd grown used to over the years. "It's just ... A bit of drama. Silly misunderstanding really." 

“Well,” Gertrud smiled sadly and patted him on the knee. “You don’t need all this drama and nonsense. Just be careful; don’t let anyone go toying with your emotions and breaking your heart. No girl is worth that.”

Oswald laughed quietly. "Of course you're right mother. No girl is worth that." He said. Though he knew there was a man who was. 

Murphy felt a big, stupid grin spread across his face. Oswald had specified ‘no girl.’ Given, his mother had also said that, but … Oswald didn’t have to word it that way. And he knew Murphy was listening … He was probably reading too much into it, getting his hopes up over a gendered noun. But he’d been starved for signs of affection lately, and right now he’d take whatever scraps he could get.

Gertrud kissed her son and stood up. “I will let you know when breakfast is ready.” She paused at the door. “That young man, Murphy,” she said, looking a little concerned. “I didn’t hear him come in last night, and I didn’t see him in the livingroom. Do you know if he is coming back?” She knew that Oswald had been angry with Murphy lately, but he was such a nice boy, and her Oswald had such a hard time making friends.

"He was here last night. I'm sure he just went out for a bit." He said following her to the door. 

“Well, I suppose that’s alright then,” she said, shaking her head. “I worry about you two out there so late in this city. You really should stick together. It’s safer.” Having said her piece, she left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

Murphy remained quiet under the bed, waiting for Oswald to tell him it was safe to come out.

Oswald shook his head as he locked the door again and crawled back into bed. "Come out." He said his voice muffled against the pillow. 

Murphy pulled himself out from under the bed. He climbed up onto the bed and sat there for a moment, looking down at Oswald, before he finally spoke. “So,” he said, with a very serious look on his face. “Demon-purses.”

Oswald grabbed onto Murphy's pillow, drawing his arm back and swinging it at Murphy, the pillow hitting Murphy in the back and head with a loud thump. 

Murphy fell over on the bed laughing uncontrollably, covering his mouth again so that the sound wouldn’t carry. He picked up the pillow that had hit him and threw it back at Oswald. After he’d regained his composure, he sat up again, and said with a smirk: “So, this mysterious girl who’s been causing all this drama… Should I be jealous?”

"You're the girl, Murphy. Damn woman ..." He said throwing the pillow back at him again and getting up to get dressed before his mother came to get him again. "How are we going to get you out of here without her being suspicious?" 

Murphy frowned in thought as he also got dressed. “You’re right… I’d really rather not have to hide under the bed indefinitely.” He looked around, thinking aloud. “And there’s no window here, so that’s out... Do you think you’d be able to distract your mother for a few minutes and I could slip out?”

"Easily. Just don't step on the floor board right in front of the door. The one in between the door frame. It creaks." Oswald said slipping out of the room and leaving the door open a crack so she wouldn't hear the door click open. 

Oswald went into the bathroom. "Mother! Could you come here please?" 

“Just a moment, Oswald, I’m coming,” Gertrud called from the kitchen before quickly making her way into the bathroom. “What is it? Are you feeling alright?”

"I'm fine mother, but I can't seem to find the boxes of Kleenex. You know me, nose is always running." He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Poor dear,” said Gertrud, patting her son’s shoulder affectionately. “I think the Kleenex boxes are in my room. Let me go get one...” She headed out toward her bedroom, at the other end of the apartment.

As soon as Gertrud had gone into her bedroom, Murphy quietly pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped carefully over the floor board that Oswald had warned him about, before quietly moving toward the front door. Murphy opened and closed the front door, walking back into the apartment as if he’d just returned.

“There they are,” said Gertrud, emerging from her room to hand Oswald a box of tissues. She turned toward the front door as Murphy closed it behind him and smiled. “Murphy, we were just about to have breakfast, if you would like to join us.”

“Thanks, I’d love to,” Murphy said brightly, giving no indication that he’d been hiding under Oswald’s bed moments before.


	20. Together?

Oswald shivered as he pulled his jacket off, hanging it on the rack as he closed the door and locked it. Luckily his mother had finally given both him and Murphy keys, since she'd been staying at her sister's house more and more frequently since she'd fallen ill. 

He yawned as he unbuttoned his vest, walking towards his room. He opened the door and saw Murphy laying in bed. 

"Are you asleep?" He asked, shedding his clothes, not really caring where they ended up. 

“Not really,” Murphy yawned, sitting up in bed and looking up at him. “Long day?” Murphy had been off today, so things had been quiet, but Oswald looked dead on his feet with exhaustion.

"You have no idea." He said crawling into bed next to Murphy. He gently pushed him back down to go the bed and cuddled up next to him, wanting the comforting feel of Murphy with him. 

For a moment, Murphy remained still, surprised that Oswald finally was actually touching him again. In the few days since Oswald had forgiven him, they still hadn’t so much as cuddled. The tension had let up, and he’d been allowed back into Oswald’s bed, and Oswald didn’t seem angry… But Murphy had nonetheless started to wonder if Oswald was having second thoughts after all. But maybe all he’d needed was a little time.

Murphy wrapped his arms around Oswald, relieved that he was able to hold him again, and ran his fingers lightly through the back of Oswald’s hair. “Everything okay?” he asked.

"Fish was in a bad mood today. Maroni hasn’t been making his payments to Falcone. Samson has been pocketing the money and she's pissed." He said quietly. "Of course Falcone already handed him over to Maroni but Falcone is pissed at Mooney for not catching it sooner. She doesn't have Samson there to take it out on, so ...." 

Murphy winced. “So Mooney decided to make you miserable because you were there,” he finished. Which, unfortunately, was something neither of them could do a damn thing about. Fish Mooney would continue to treat Oswald however the hell she wanted to. He held Oswald a little closer and kissed him softly on the forehead. “I’m sorry you had a shitty day,” he said.

Oswald nodded. "I wish you were there today. Everyone was laughing at me." He said, his right arm going around Murphy's waist, his left hand on Murphy's chest. 

“Everyone we work with is an asshole,” Murphy said, one hand resting between Oswald’s shoulderblades, the other still running gently through Oswald’s hair. “I wish I was there too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this crap alone.” Though he doubted there was much he could have done to help. It bothered him how much Mooney seemed to single Oswald out for humiliation. He understood that she felt the need to publicly assert her power, but… it seemed to him that Oswald was on the receiving end far more often than any of their coworkers.

"It could have been worse I suppose," he said. At least she hadn't punished him for the mistakes he'd made today. "I'm just glad to be home." 

Murphy nodded. It could definitely have been worse. And that was somehow just as terrifying as it was comforting. Things could always be worse. “I’m glad you’re home too,” he whispered. He was quiet for a moment, just holding Oswald’s thin form against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against him as he breathed.

After a while, Murphy broke the silence. “This… is kind of off topic,” he said. “But… how do you feel about this? About us, I mean?”

Oswald glanced up at Murphy before looking back at his chest, his hand running over the soft hairs on his chest. "Confused ... Mostly." He said softly. 

That made sense, all things considered. Murphy looked down at Oswald. “Are you confused about what you want, or about what I want?” he asked gently, then added: “Or about whether you can trust me.” That last one at least, was probably still an issue.

Oswald sighed and pulled away from Murphy slightly. "All of the above. I don't know what you're looking for, or what I am to you. If I'm just going to be a fuck buddy or ...." Oswald paused and shook his head. "And to be honest I like you Murphy, I really do but .... I'm still confused about ..." He paused shyly. "I don't know if I like you in ... You know ... That way because I like men or if ... If it's just because you're the first person to ..." 

“To find you attractive?” Murphy supplied. Which he did, immensely. But just because no one else had felt that way about him before didn’t mean Oswald was in any way obligated to reciprocate that feeling. And Murphy was aware of that.

"No." Oswald said his voice barely above a whisper. "To look at me like I'm human." 

Murphy felt a sharp pain at Oswald’s words. “Oswald,” he said quietly. “You are human. Everyone should treat you like one. You don’t owe me anything for that. You know that, don’t you?”

"Yeah well ... It's hard to think that when no ones told you that before. My mom doesn't even look at me like I'm human. She's kinder than everyone else but ... She treats me like a child ... Like some kind of porcelain doll that she has to protect lest I shatter ..." He sighed and looked up at Murphy. "You're the only person to treat me like I'm someone ... Not something to be protected or put on a mantle, or like some flightless bird. But .... You look at me and you see me .... And ... That frightens me a bit." 

“I’m… kind of frightened by this too,” Murphy admitted. “Just by how quickly I started to develop such strong feelings for you. You’re not just a fuck-buddy to me, I assure you.” He looked back into Oswald’s intense eyes. “I care about you deeply. And you’re the only person left in the world who cares about me at all.” Somehow, alarmingly quickly, Oswald had become everything to him. “But… I know you’re still trying to figure all this out. And that you might decide that this isn’t right for you after all, and… and that’s okay. But I can’t help wanting to be with you, in whatever way you’re willing to have me.” He smoothed back Oswald’s hair. “If you want something more casual until you’re sure, I’ll understand, but… I would really like you to be my boyfriend.”

Oswald felt panicked by that, his body stiffening slightly. Murphy ... Was asking him to ... To be his boyfriend? It sounded so juvenile but at the same time .... He'd never had a ... A boyfriend before .... Or a girlfriend for that matter. He was just so confused. He knew this was wrong ... Was raised to know that men didn't date men ... Or have sex with them for that matter. It was against everything Oswald had been raised to believe. But ... It felt right. 

"I-" Oswald paused not knowing what to say. "I'll .... I'll have to think about that." He said quietly, nervously. He felt as if he didn't make the decision now Murphy would walk away, but he couldn't make that decision now .... Maybe that would be best. If Murphy walked away. Just like everyone else. That he was used to. That he knew how to react. He closed his eyes and looked down so that Murphy couldn't see his face. 

Murphy felt Oswald stiffen next to him. He hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. Maybe, given the circumstances, it was too soon to even ask. Oswald’s personal confusion aside, they had just spent five weeks barely speaking to each other. But Murphy needed to make his intentions clear, to get it through Oswald’s head that he really cared about him, even if he couldn’t really expect much of an answer right now.

Still. Oswald hadn’t flat out said no. He was thinking about it. Murphy could still be hopeful.

“Okay,” he said softly, looking down at Oswald, but his face was turned away. “Take all the time you need. I just… wanted to let you know how I feel.”

Oswald looked up at Murphy, almost surprised he was so supporting that he needed time. He nodded and moved back into Murphy’s arms, exhaustion still tugging at him as he struggled to stay awake. 

Murphy kissed Oswald softly on the cheek as he took him into his arms, and held him close, enjoying the feeling of just being near him. As much as he would like some form of commitment eventually, some sense of security in this relationship, he could be content with this for now.


	21. First dates are always awkward

A couple of days later, Murphy returned mid-morning from a mysterious errand, and immediately bounded over to Oswald, full of energy and excitement. “Come on,” he said brightly. “The weather’s actually decent today, so we’re going out.” He looked over Oswald’s attire, then added: “We’ll need to get you some different clothes first, though.”

Oswald looked up at Murphy, his eyebrow raised in confusion. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” 

“Oh, the suit’s very stylish, and looks fantastic on you as always,” said Murphy. “But it won’t work for what we’re doing. You’ll need something more casual, trust me.”

“Why, where are we going?” Oswald asked going to the door to put his shoes on, trusting Murphy but at the same time skeptical about where Murphy was taking him. 

“You’ll see when we get there,” Murphy said grinning, and took Oswald by the hand. “Come on, let’s go!”

Oswald followed Murphy outside, walking alongside him in silence. At least it wasn't raining anymore. Sure the sky wasn't blue, it rarely was in Gotham but it seemed to be a decent day out at the very least. 

"You're not even going to hint at where we're going?" Oswald asked. 

“Nope,” said Murphy cheerfully. “Hey, I think I caught a rare sighting of the sun just now. Almost forgot what it looks like.” He headed for a nearby clothes store. “You should be able to find something more casual here.”

Oswald looked at the store sign and the shop window. It looked like something you would find a couple of teenagers at, not a few grown men, young as they may be. “DJ Ray Skate and Surf Supply?” Oswald asked, unsure of why there was even a surf store in Gotham. Maybe the fashion was in with the teens of Gotham. Who really knew anymore, teen fashions changed faster than Oswald could keep up with, even when he was a teenager. “I’m not dressing like I’m fourteen. It’s bad enough I still get ID’d everywhere I go.” 

Murphy rolled his eyes. “You’re 20,” he said. “You’re supposed to get ID’d. No one wants to lose their liquor license, even in Gotham. Now, will you just go inside? Like I said, you’ll need something more casual for this. There’s no one you have to impress today, anyway.”

"This is beyond casual ..." Oswald said. "I'm not going in there. I don't care where we're going, what I'm wearing is fine." 

“It really won’t be,” Murphy insisted. “Can you just trust me about this small thing at least?” He took Oswald’s hand. “Onward!” He proceeded to head into the store.

Oswald shook his head but followed Murphy into the store, pulling his hand out of Murphy's before anyone saw. It wasn't that he was ashamed to be seen with Murphy it's just that .... Well, Gotham wasn't exactly the most accepting of homosexuals. 

Murphy didn’t take it personally that Oswald pulled his hand away like that. No one had been really looking at them at the time, but… it was always a good idea to be careful. Anyway, he’d gotten him into the store at least, which had been his goal.

“Okay,” he said, starting to look over the skateboard selection. “Go pick out an outfit you don’t hate. You’ll also want comfortable shoes with good traction.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Murphy had planned. "Murphy, I can't skateboard. No." 

Murphy looked back at Oswald with a somewhat chagrined smile. “Was I that obvious?” Granted, he hadn’t exactly been a master of subtlety about this. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I can teach you. It’ll be fun to try something different for a change.”

"No. I'm going to make a fool of myself." Oswald said shaking his head. He heard the sound of giggling and looked over to see two teens laughing at him. "Can we just leave?" 

Murphy looked over at the teens and said mildly: “Shouldn’t you two be in school? The truancy officer owes me a favor anyway…” The teenagers shot him an angry glare before clearing off. Murphy turned back to Oswald. “You will not make a fool of yourself. You’ll just look like any other beginner starting out. Everyone who’s actually skated,” and wasn’t some damn poser teenager trying to look cool. “Knows what it’s like to be just starting out. No one there’s going to laugh at you. Please, I just want to do something together.”

"Can't we do something else then? Bowling maybe? I can do that ..." At least it sounded easier anyway. He'd never been bowling before. Well ... At least not participating anyway. He remembered his dad taking him and his brothers bowling once, but he wasn't allowed to play because it was cheaper paying for three boys instead of four. 

“We’ll go bowling next time,” said Murphy. He’d considered that as a possible date idea already, and he wanted to come up with a variety of activities they could do together. So far, the only things they’d done just the two of them were sex and homicide, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. “But right now, this is something I really want to do together,” he said. “Just give it a try before you decide you can’t do it. Please?”

"I haven't decided I can't do it, I know I can't do it." Oswald said crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine." He said annoyed. "But I don't know what I'm looking for, I don't dress like this." 

Murphy couldn’t help smiling slightly at the petulant look on Oswald’s face, or the way that he crossed his arms. “Thank you for being a good sport about it,” he said, patting Oswald’s shoulder briefly, not letting his touch linger long enough to draw attention. “I’ll make it worth your while later,” he added in a low voice, then said: "Come on, I’ll help you pick something out.”

Oswald sighed as he followed Murphy over to the clothing section of the store. "These clothes are expensive Murphy .... I'm not wasting my money on something I'm only going to wear once." He said hoping it would get him out of this. 

“You’re not paying, so don’t worry about it,” said Murphy. “Anyway, it’s not like they cost nearly as much as those suits you wear, and you wouldn’t want to risk tearing one of those while you’re skateboarding.” Since Oswald was a beginner, losing his balance a few times was pretty much inevitable.

He picked out a black hoodie, a pair of pants that looked like they’d be a comfortable fit, in about the right size, and a shirt that he didn’t think Oswald would particularly object to. He handed the ensemble to Oswald. “Go try these on and see if they fit,” he said.

Oswald looked annoyed as he took the clothing and headed over to the change rooms. He took his time as he took his suit off and pulled the clothing on. His black pants fit but where a lot baggier than he liked as they weren’t fit for him like his suit was, and the hoody was a bit too loose, but he supposed it was supposed to be like that. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. 

By the time Oswald had finished reluctantly changing, Murphy had already selected a couple of boards of reasonable quality, and was waiting outside the changing rooms. “Everything okay in there, Oswald?” he asked. He’d been in there awhile. 

“No, everything is not okay.” Oswald whined. “I look ridiculous.” He said not wanting to come out of the change room. He looked stupid. 

“I doubt that,” said Murphy, smiling slightly. If he accomplished nothing else from this outing, maybe he could at least get Oswald to stop being so overly critical about his own appearance. “Why don’t you come out and get a second opinion?”

“Murphy, I could be wearing a potato sack and you’d say I looked good.” He said slowly opening the door and poking his head out to see if there was anyone else in the hall. He sighed and stepped out. “I look dumb …” 

Murphy grinned. “You do not look dumb,” he said. He thought the hoodie looked adorable on him, and the look worked well with his hairstyle. “And while I’ll admit I might be slightly biased in my opinion that you could pull off wearing a potato sack, no one at the skate park’s going to think you look dumb wearing the same kind of clothes everyone else is. You look good, I promise.”

Oswald sighed. “Fine, let’s get this over with.” He said going back into the room and changing back into his suit. 

“It’ll be fun,” Murphy insisted. But he appreciated that Oswald was at least going along with this for him, even if he didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about it right now. He went to pay for the clothes and the two skateboards.

“$200 for a skateboard?” Oswald whispered to Murphy, picking up the deck and looking at the bottom. He shook his head at the picture of a penguin on an icy background. “Don’t do this … It’s too much money.” 

“You don’t want a crappy board that’ll break, or that won’t maneuver properly,” Murphy reasoned. “Trust me on that. It’s better long-term to buy one decent board than to keep buying crappy ones.”

"You keep implying I'll be doing this more than once. And was the Penguin necessary?" He asked annoyed. 

“Well, you’d have to do it more than once to get good at it, wouldn’t you?” Murphy reasoned. “And if you really hate the penguin skateboard, we can trade. Though if you don’t think you’ll use it more than once, does it really matter that much?”

Oswald glared at Murphy before walking away from him to wait at the entrance before he started an argument.

Murphy ignored the glare and went ahead and paid for the items, then went to meet Oswald at the entrance. “Shall we?” he asked.

"Do I have a choice?" He asked not even wanting to know exactly how much Murphy just spent on all the items. It had to be at least a week’s pay. "Since I doubt they have a change room wherever we're going .... Where am I changing?" He asked looking at a black flat brimmed baseball cap. "You really like me in black don't you?"

“You happen to look very striking in black,” Murphy said matter-of-factly. And he would really love to see Oswald develop the confidence to go with it. He glanced at his watch. “We can go get lunch somewhere first, and you can use the restroom to change,” he suggested.

"Fine." Oswald said, still clearly annoyed that he had to wear those clothes out in public. "Where are we going?"

“Since I picked today’s activity,” not to mention Oswald’s clothes. “Do you want to pick the restaurant?” If not, Murphy could think of a few, but he didn’t want Oswald to feel like he didn’t have control over anything.

"I don't care." Oswald said, clearly unhappy about this. Murphy just spent way too much money on something he's expecting to do more than once and he knew he wasn't going to be able to do it.

“Okay,” Murphy said, putting a hand on Oswald’s shoulder. “Come on, there’s a good sandwich place near the park. That sound alright to you?”

"Yeah that's fine." He said following Murphy down the street.

Murphy led the way to a small but cosy and relentlessly clean sandwich shop, the specials of the day written neatly on chalk signs. An elderly-looking man behind the counter gave them a kind smile as they offered to take their order as soon as they were ready.

“I think we’ll need a minute to decide, thanks,” Murphy said pleasantly, and glanced over at Oswald, who still seemed a little sulky.

“I’m ready whenever you are.” Oswald said barely even glancing up at the menu. He already knew what he wanted, it was what he always got at sandwich shops like this, on the rare occasion his mother had taken him to one growing up. As an adult he hadn’t found a need to go to one, he could afford to eat most places in Gotham now … Well, most lower grade restaurants anyway.

Murphy ordered a ham and Swiss sandwich, and then waited for Oswald to place his order, getting out his wallet so that he could pay for both of them. He knew Oswald didn’t like how much money Murphy had spent on the skateboards and clothes, but surely he couldn’t object to Murphy buying him a sandwich..

Oswald shook his head. "I'll get a tuna sandwich please." He said handing the man a 20 before Murphy could object otherwise.

“Hey,” Murphy protested. “I was going to take care of that.”

The man behind the counter shrugged. “Too late now,” he said, as he took Oswald’s 20 and gave him back his change, then set about preparing their sandwiches.

Oswald stepped away from the counter as the man gave him back his change and gave them their sandwiches. “Where are we going to eat?” He asked, looking around and seeing no where available to sit.

“Well, the weather’s still decent for Gotham,” Murphy said. “Why don’t we take our sandwiches to the park, find a bench, enjoy the distinct lack of rain. You should probably go use the restroom to change before we leave, though. I’ll hold your sandwich.”

Oswald sighed and handed Murphy his sandwich before heading into the bathroom with his bag. He changed quickly, holding the hat in his hand as he went back to meet Murphy.

"I look like an idiot." He said as a small group of kids in a booth where pointing and laughing, though he wasn't sure whether it was because of the way he was dressed or just him in general. That happened quite often no matter what he was wearing.

“No you don’t,” Murphy said, handing Oswald the tuna sandwich and held the door open for him. “Come on, let’s go.” He glanced over at the group of kids and said, not bothering to keep his voice down: “There’s a bunch of losers hanging around here anyway.”

The kids burst out laughing as Oswald left the restaurant, the kids calling out insults insinuating he needed his boyfriend to protect him. Shouts of "faggot" came from the building as Oswald went out onto the street. "Sure ..." He said as he started walking down the street towards the park.

Murphy ignored the foul-mouthed brats as he left with Oswald, though a dark expression settled over his face at the word ‘faggot.’ Someone seriously needed to wash their mouths out with soap. He tried to forget about it. They were just a bunch of idiot kids. They didn’t know any better. Of course, they probably wouldn’t know any better as adults either. Nothing ever changed. He couldn’t keep thinking like this today, though. Oswald was sulking enough for the both of them. He brightened as they neared the park. “There’s a bench over there that’s not taken,” he said.


	22. A walk in the park

Oswald said nothing as he followed Murphy over to the park bench. Even though the day seemed nice Oswald could already see clouds in the distance coming their way. It would only last maybe an hour before rain came again. The amount it rained in Gotham reminded him much of London ... Brief snippets of sunshine followed by rain ... Lots and lots of rain.

“I wonder who decided,” Murphy said, contemplating the approaching clouds about an hour out. “That this was a good place to build a town. Did the very first settlers arrive from England, look around at the shitty weather, and say ‘Yep, just like home’? Or maybe, if we look far back enough, we’ll find that one of the city founders ran an umbrella manufacturing business on the side.”

Oswald chuckled slightly. "Well, London is still quite a bit nicer than this place." Oswald said as he started eating his sandwich.

“You’ve been to London?” Murphy asked, surprised. He’d never been out of the country himself. “When was that?”

"When I was a kid. My parents sent me to a boarding school when I was three. Was taken there by an escort. I was there until I was twelve and my parents went bankrupt and couldn't afford the school anymore. I was the first of my brothers to be pulled out." He said picking at his sandwich. His brothers educations had always been more important than his. Come to think of it ... He couldn't recall a single time his father asked him about his grades.

“Wow,” Murphy said, his eyes a little wide. “I didn’t even know there were boarding schools that took kids that young.” Then again, knowing what he did about Oswald’s family, it wasn’t that surprising that his dad would have wanted to send him away as soon as possible. And Gertrud had probably rationalized it as the best thing for him. It made even more sense, now, that she was so overprotective of him, if he’d spent so much of his early childhood away from her. “What was it like?” he asked.

"Boring ..." He said. "Hard ... Not the school work, that was easy but .... The kids there didn't like me. And it's hard to get away from them when they know where you sleep."

Murphy winced. “I take it none of the teachers really did anything about it?” Adults could be incredibly oblivious to just how evil kids were capable of being.

"Worse, they encouraged it." He said. "They said it built character for adulthood or something like that."

“Lovely,” Murphy said sarcastically. “Because I’m sure ‘character’ was definitely in the curriculum.” He shook his head. “I think ‘it builds character’ is just the standard excuse adults give kids when they’re too lazy to actually do their job protecting them.” He looked over at Oswald. “Did you have any friends, anyone on your side at all?”

Oswald shook his head. "No, I've .... I've never had a friend before." He said quietly, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Murphy sighed. He just didn’t get it. Yes, people were generally terrible. But how was it that not even one other person saw Oswald the way he did? He personally thought Oswald was amazing; why didn’t anybody else seem to notice?

“That’s their loss, then,” he said. He took a bite of his sandwich, then added: “I guess that’s another first in this relationship, then.” That realization had just hit him. No wonder trust was still so hard for Oswald. 

Oswald looked up at Murphy and didn't say anything as he finished off the last of his sandwich. He crumpled up the wrapper, and tossed it at a garbage bin that was way too full, garbage spilled out around it. The wrapper wad hit the bin and landed on the ground with the other garbage.

Murphy frowned slightly at Oswald’s silence, thinking over the conversation as he finished his own sandwich. He glanced over at the growing pile of garbage around the trash can where Oswald’s sandwich wrapper had landed, and decided that it probably didn’t count as littering if the city wasn’t overly concerned with regular garbage collection in this park. The weather wasn’t usually decent enough for the park to see very many visitors… though he might have spent a couple of nights on this bench during his brief stint of homelessness.

“Did I say something that upset you?” he asked, looking back at Oswald.

"No .... It's just ... My past isn't really something I like to talk about." He said watching Murphy eat.

Murphy nodded. He couldn’t blame him for that in the slightest. “Let’s talk about something else, then,” he said. “You’ve told me a lot… Is there anything that you want to know?” It was only fair, really. And their whole falling out had been because he’d kept things from Oswald. He didn’t want that to come between them again.

There was something he wanted to know .... Something that had been bothering him.

"Who ...." Oswald hesitated ... Should he bring it up now? Should he wait? But he'd wanted to know since Murphy had told him, and It's not exactly something you could bring up in casual conversation. Oswald looked around, making sure no one was around them. "You said you killed someone .... Who was it?" Oswald asked. "Why did you kill him?"

Murphy stiffened. Why did he have to ask about that now? But then, it was only reasonable that he’d want to know. After a moment, he said: “I… guess I owe you an explanation for that.” He sighed. “His name was Kurt. He… well, everyone in that crappy little town knew who he was. He was the mayor’s son, in some fraternity or other, I think he may have played football back in high school, but I never really paid much attention to sports … Anyway, as far as everyone was concerned, he could do no wrong. I’m sure you know the type.” His voice and expression were bitter. 

He looked down at the ground. “He … about a year and a half ago, he …” Murphy swallowed, trying to stop his voice from shaking. It didn’t matter. His hands were visibly trembling anyway. He finally managed to say it, though in barely more than a whisper. “He murdered my younger brother.”

Oswald suddenly wished he hadn't asked. Just because he didn't care about his brothers, in fact had killed one of them himself, didn't mean that Murphy didn't.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Oswald said quietly.

Murphy shook his head. “I don’t expect you to completely understand,” he said quietly. “It’s just … I was five years older than him, and our dad walked out pretty early on, so I’d always helped look out for him. I was thirteen when our mom died, and we went to live with our grandmother, who … she cared a lot, but she was in pretty frail health already, and she just wasn’t up to keeping up with two active kids on her own. So from that point on, I basically raised him. I was the one who stayed up all night just to prove that there really was no monster under the bed, and made him do his homework, and worked after school jobs to help out… When Grandma got sick during my senior year, I almost dropped out of high school to help out more, but she talked me out of it by convincing me I’d be setting a bad example for him… and then… well... when I was eighteen I became his legal guardian.”

In hindsight, he suspected his grandmother might have only lived that long because she was fighting to at least hold out until Murphy was old enough to get custody. She’d known how terrified he’d been that they might be separated. “It’s just… My whole life revolved around making sure he turned out alright, and that he had a future. Then his first damn year of college some ignorant drunk frat boy and his friends come along and…” 

Murphy realized now that he was shaking uncontrollably. He went quiet, not trusting himself to say any more right now. He hadn’t really talked to anyone about this, and hadn’t realized just how hard it was going to hit him all over again when he did. He was still staring at the ground as he tried to pull himself together. He absolutely refused to break down on a public bench in the middle of the park.

"Hey ..." Oswald said, wanting to take Murphy's mind off the subject he'd brought up. He felt bad for bringing it up. "I thought we had a skate park to get to." Oswald said as he stood up from the bench. "You got me all gussied up, and we're sitting here in the rain." He said as the first few drops started falling.

“You’re right,” Murphy said, forcing a smile as he made himself look up again at Oswald. He stood up and threw away the sandwich wrapper, along with what was left of his sandwich, then picked up the skateboards. “Sorry for being such a downer. Let’s go; it’s an indoor skate park, so we’ll be out of the rain soon.” He started leading the way.

He kept his manner light for now; he’d intended for today to be about him and Oswald doing something fun together--whether Oswald initially appreciated that or not-- and he wasn’t about to ruin it now. That was probably why Oswald had changed the subject, and he was grateful to him for that… but at the same time, part of him was anxious about it, and he kept glancing over at Oswald, wondering if he’d upset him by telling him all this. Oswald had enough problems of his own already; he might not be able to handle Murphy’s too. It was possible that Oswald just didn’t want to deal with his baggage. It had happened to Murphy before. Just because he listened to somebody when they needed him didn’t mean they were willing to do the same for him. And Murphy didn’t want to lose Oswald just because he couldn’t keep his issues to himself.


	23. Penguin on a skateboard

They walked quietly to the skate park, Oswald taking his Penguin skateboard from Murphy as they walked down the street. No one paid them any attention as they walked along, until they finally got there.

Oswald followed Murphy up to the front desk, surprised there was a turnstile to let them in. "You have to pay to get in?" He whispered to Murphy.

“Hey, it’s not like they could build and maintain an indoor skate park without funding,” Murphy pointed out. “Don’t worry; I’ve got this.” Oddly, he was already starting to feel better. Hearing Oswald protest about Murphy spending money somehow felt like a return to normalcy. He’d checked out the place, “GC Sk8park,” beforehand and knew the pricing: $20 each for a session, or $70 for a monthly membership. When they reached the turnstile, he shelled out cash for a one-day session for both of them, since Oswald would probably explode if Murphy tried to buy him a membership now. But if he ended up having fun, Murphy would insist on getting him a membership later.

They got inside and since school had started again there were very few people in the park. Which was just fine with Oswald. "We couldn't have started out on an empty street or something?" Oswald asked putting his skateboard down, making sure it didn't roll away with his foot.

Murphy shook his head. “You know how poorly maintained Gotham streets are. Especially empty ones. Not level at all, tons of cracks and potholes… not great for a beginner to learn to skate on. You want to start skating on a smoother surface, so you can focus on getting the hang of it instead of constantly looking out for things that can throw you off balance.”

"Okay then Teach." He said kicking his skateboard over to a flat area. "Teach me." He said looking at the few that were already in the park, going off ramps and rails doing tricks that seemed impossible to someone who hadn't even stood on one before.

“Hey,” Murphy said, following Oswald’s gaze to some of the more experienced skaters. “Remember, every single one of them started out with exactly the amount of skill that you have right now. So, the first thing you’ll want to know is how to position your feet on the board and get your balance.” He showed Oswald about how far apart his feet should be on the board. “Bear in mind that whichever foot you have forward is going to stay on the board, and whichever foot is in the back is the one you’ll push off with to move. You’ll want to push off pretty much immediately; it’ll be easier to keep your balance in motion. Start off relatively slow at first, to get a feel for it.”

Oswald did as he was instructed, placing his foot nervously on the front of the board, a little bit further forward than he should have. Murphy corrected him and Oswald adjusted his footing. As instructed he pushed off with his foot, placing it on the board, his arms flailing as he tried to maintain his balance a moment before the skateboard flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back, the skateboard hitting the wall a few feet away.

Murphy winced as Oswald hit the ground, and went to offer him a hand. “You alright there? Don’t worry; that wasn’t any worse than my first try.”

Oswald stood up without Murphy’s hand and went to fetch the skateboard. “I’m fine!” He grumbled as he kicked the skateboard back over. They remained at the park for a full three hours, by the end of it Oswald was skating decently on a flat surface, but it seemed as soon as he hit any kind of bump in the floor, he panicked, flailed and landed on his face … or ass …. or back … To be honest after the three hour run, Oswald was bruised and sore in places he didn’t know he had.

“You’re doing a lot better,” Murphy said. “It’s mostly lack of confidence that’s getting to you now; every time you hit a bump, you’re panicking. If you push off again instead, that can help with your balance.” At this point, Oswald had already made a lot of progress for a beginner, and Murphy was frankly impressed with the persistence he was showing, considering that he hadn’t wanted to try this from the beginning.

“Yeah well forgive me for flailing when I’m falling.” He said. At least he hadn’t been laughed at as much as he thought he was going to be. “I do want to go home and take a hot bath though, my back is killing me.”

“I’d say you’ve more than earned it,” Murphy said, smiling slightly. “You’ve made plenty of progress for one day. And don’t think I haven’t noticed what a good sport you’ve been, putting up with my whims today, when this definitely wouldn’t have been your choice of activity. I really do appreciate that.”

By the time they got home it was nearing dinner, Oswald pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it onto the couch. He paused on the way to the bathroom and kissed Murphy.

"How hard would it be to convince you to make me supper?" He asked, pecking his lips again, grateful that it was Thursday and his mother was at her sister’s.

Murphy smiled. “I think I can do that,” he said. “Anything in particular you’d like?” He’d never gotten a chance to make dinner for Oswald before, since Gertrud always insisted on doing all the cooking. Though that wasn’t the only reason he was glad they had the apartment to themselves tonight.

"Surprise me." He said pulling off his shirt and heading to the bath area. Oswald had long since become comfortable with Murphy seeing his scars ... Seeing him naked ... It no longer bothered him to remove his clothing. In fact Murphy hardly had to ask anymore.

“Will do,” said Murphy, glancing after Oswald as he took his shirt off, enjoying the view. “You know, if you leave your pants too, I could put them in the laundry for you,” he said in a completely innocent tone.

Oswald picked up a candy out of the candy bowl on his mother’s table as he walked past. He turned and chucked it at Murphy, continuing around the corner to the bath area.

"Nice try." Oswald said laughing as he twisted the taps until the water ran the right temperature.

“Can you blame me?” Murphy sighed, before heading to the kitchen. “I’ll just get them later, then,” he called after him. “You’ll have to take them off some time!”

Murphy looked through the fridge and pantry, glancing over what was available to work with. The food situation had gotten better since Oswald had started working and Murphy had started actually getting to keep his own income. Even though Gertrud hadn’t let him help cook, he’d insisted on at least contributing toward groceries, since he was staying here. He selected a few ingredients and set to work, throwing together a simple casserole.

Oswald removed his pants and underwear as the water neared a decent height. He loved this old bathtub. It was nice and deep and he could fill it as far as he wanted because it didn't have a drain valve.

He stepped into the water wincing at how hot it was at first, but once he sank in his body started to get used to it and he laid back against the back.

Once Murphy had everything in the oven ready to go, and had put away the spices and cleaned up the kitchen, he glanced at the kitchen timer… they still had a while before it would be finished cooking. After a moment, he went into the bathroom, moving past the curtain that separated it from the other room. Not that it was really providing much privacy at the moment, since it had been left pinned open, even closed it was lacy and quite a bit see-through. Oswald seemed far less self-conscious around him than he had been previously. He looked pointedly at where Oswald had left his pants and underwear. “I told you you’d have to take them off some time,” he said, smirking slightly.

"Well I wasn't about to bathe with them on now was I?" He asked, raising his hand out of the water and flicking some at Murphy.

Murphy gave him a mock-offended look for flicking water at him. “True, that wouldn’t be terribly practical,” he acknowledged, making his way to the other end of the tub. “Anyway,” he said, starting to massage Oswald’s shoulders. “Dinner should be ready in another twenty minutes. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Oswald moaned quietly as he started to rub his shoulders. It felt good after what they had done today. "You're doing it." Oswald said, his eyes closing.

“You do have a lot of tension in your shoulders,” Murphy noticed, continuing to massage Oswald’s back. “Today wasn’t that bad, was it?” He started kissing lightly down the side of Oswald’s neck.

"I suppose not .... Though I'm sure you can think of a way to make me feel better." He said a sly smirk on his face.

“Hmm … A few ideas come to mind,” Murphy said. He loved seeing that smirk on Oswald’s face, loved those rare moments when he seemed so sure of himself. Murphy had gotten to see that side of him a little more often lately. “Of course, I never seem to run out of ideas around you.” He worked at massaging Oswald’s shoulders for awhile longer, until he was satisfied that he’d relieved the worst of the tension there, before his hands started to wander over Oswald’s chest, then into the water and gradually further down.

Oswald looked back at Murphy as he lowered his hands into the water down his stomach, his cock already stiff under the water.

"Really?" Oswald asked. "You'll have to demonstrate a few of these ideas you have."

Murphy’s hands continued to move downward until he found Oswald’s hardening cock. He smiled. “It seems like you might have some of the same ideas already.” His right hand wrapped around Oswald’s shaft, and began stroking slowly from base to tip, his left hand lightly caressing Oswald’s balls. “I suspect that you actually have a much dirtier mind than you’ve let on.”

"I'll have you know I was a perfectly innocent virgin before I met you." He said leaning back to kiss him. "So whose fault is that?"

Murphy leaned forward, kissing Oswald back, still continuing to stroke his cock under the warm water, his own cock starting to harden in his pants. He broke the kiss, looking back down at him with a smirk and said: “Yes, I guess I’m to blame for that… though I’ve never heard you complain before. If I’m such a bad influence, though, would you prefer that I stop?”

“Murphy, if you stop, I may have to get out of this tub. And it’s very nice in here. Perhaps you should join me.” He said with a wicked smirk on his face as his hand ran down Murphy’s arm, his hand going over his as he stroked him. A sudden click at the front door made Oswald jump as the door opened. He saw his mother walk in and let go of Murphy’s hand, his eyes widened in shock.

“Oswald.” Gertrud called into the very open concept apartment, her back turned towards the bathroom. Oswald cursed under his breath that they did not have an enclosed bathroom and looked at Murphy.

Murphy froze when he heard the door open, a string of curse words running through his head in a panicked jumble. She hadn’t seen them yet … but there was no way to get out of the bathroom without her seeing that he'd been in there, and no way to hide that Oswald was currently sitting naked in the bath tub. Nor could he think of a convincing explanation for this … But at the very least, he should get his hands off of Oswald’s cock before Gertrud turned around. He thought about withdrawing his hands slowly, so that she wouldn’t hear, but every second he remained with his hands in the bathtub was another second that Gertrud might turn around and find them in this compromising position. He quickly stood up straight, folding his hands behind his back to hide the fact that his forearms were completely soaked. He only hoped that his partial erection wasn’t too obvious … at least the pants he was wearing were a loose enough fit that she might not notice.

Gertrud looked around the apartment. "Oswald I-" She froze when she saw Murphy standing near her son who was sitting bare in the bathtub. The smile faded from her face, replaced with a look of both disgust and confusion. "What .... What is going on here? What is this, a grown man in the bathroom while you bathe?"

“That … does seem a little peculiar when you put it that way,” Murphy admitted with an apologetic look. “I just needed to talk to him about something important that couldn’t wait. We were just done talking, though, when you got back.” Which even he thought was a fairly lame excuse, but then Gertrud came in here to talk to Oswald when he was bathing all the time, and Murphy had never once commented on how weird that was. Gertrud seemed to have different ideas of personal space than most people did anyway… even if those notions only applied to her. Maybe, if he acted like this wasn’t a big deal, she would let it go. “Sorry about the awkwardness.”

"He was just telling me that I'm needed at work right away. I wasn't answering the phone so Miss. Mooney sent him to come fetch me ...." He said as Gertrud looked between them. She didn't seem fully convinced, and she had noticed water droplets falling to the floor behind Murphy but no ... No, no, her son would never do such a horrid thing ... Would never allow another man to ... To ..... And Oswald would never lie to her .... She forced a smile onto her face.

"Well then .... You had best hurry. Murphy you go ahead and wait downstairs, it's safer if you boys walk to work together. Oswald, I will get your suit for you." She said tsking at the clothing strewn around the apartment. "Leaving your clothes everywhere again Oswald .... Like you did when you were a tiny boy!" She said picking up his hoodie and looking at it. "What kind of clothing is this? You dressing like some hoodlum?"

“They’re for skateboarding,” Murphy admitted, leaving the bathroom. He didn’t know how Gertrud would react to skateboarding; there were still an inordinate number of people who thought of it as a delinquent activity, but it was better than whatever else she might be assuming. Anyway, it might distract Gertrud from the bathtub scandal, and he felt like he’d already lied to the poor old woman enough for one conversation. “Thought it would be best if he didn’t ruin any of his work suits skating.”

"Murphy do-" Oswald tried to stop him but it was too late.

"Skateboarding?!?" Gertrud practically shrieked. "What is this? You went skateboarding? Oswald, you know how dangerous that is! I don't want you going anymore!" She said before turning on Murphy. "And you! Filling my son’s head with ideas! He was a normal boy before you showed up and now he's ... He's .... He does all these things because of you! Out all the time when he's not working, skateboarding!"

Murphy winced. He’d clearly miscalculated just how strongly she would disapprove of skateboarding. He should have gone with his first instinct and said they were for working out. But it was too late for that now.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said hastily trying to salvage the situation. At this rate, he’d be lucky if he was welcome back in the apartment after this. “Neither of us meant to worry you. But he wasn’t doing any tricks or anything dangerous like that.” Admittedly, Murphy himself might have shown him a few at one point to show off a little, but Gertrud didn’t need to know that. “And we didn’t skate anywhere unsafe, and it’s really a very normal hobby these days, it’s good exercise, and safer than a lot of other sports...” He shook his head and gave her is most contrite look. “But we really should have asked if it was okay with you first. I’m sorry; if you don’t want him skateboarding, then there’ll be no more skateboarding.”

Gertrud picked up a rolled up magazine that was held together with an elastic band she used to swat the occasional fly that got into the apartment. She swatted Murphy with the magazine. "Out ..... Out! You wait downstairs! Let my Oswald change, he has work to get to!" She said still swatting him with the magazine.

"Mother! Stop that!" Oswald said annoyed. Gertrud ignored him and kept swatting Murphy.

"Out!"

“Yes ma’am, I’m going,” Murphy said hastily, hurrying for the door. Whenever little old ladies started brandishing household items, it was always best to stop arguing with them. “I’ll um … see you downstairs, Oswald,” he said at the door, quickly closing it behind him in case Gertrud decided to continue swatting him all the way down the stairs.

Gertrud turned to Oswald and brought him a towel. "I am glad Murphy is your friend Oswald ...." She said as he got out of the tub, grateful that his erection had practically gone away when she'd walked in, and was fully gone by the time she started swatting Murphy. "But you have to be careful ... I am starting to suspect he's a bit .... Odd." She said moving to fetch his suit. "There is no place in God’s world for people such as him. He is a nice boy, but you will see ..." She said hanging up his suit for him. "I do not want to see you fall into such a crowd! Those heathens ...." She said as she turned from Oswald as if she were going to start crying.

"Mother..." Oswald said as he pulled his pants on. "There's nothing-"

"I know, I know you would not fall into such ways .... You will find a nice wife one day ...." she said patting his cheek with her hand. "One day .... But not anytime soon."

Oswald forced a smile onto his face. "After all, what is a boy without his mother?" She asked. Oswald felt like he was going to be sick. He hated lying to her .... But he knew she would not accept him being with Murphy.

"I'm going to be late ..." He said quietly. Gertrud perked up, her hands going up into the air.

"Of course, you get ready I will make you a bag for supper!" She said bustling into the kitchen.


	24. Escape for a Night

Oswald reached the bottom of the stairs, his stomach still churning from the conversation with his mother. He spotted Murphy by the doorway and headed over to him.

"Let's get out of here ...." He said pushing through the door and walking past Murphy.

Murphy nodded, heading out after Oswald, watching his face for some hint of how things had gone. Whatever Gertrud had said up there, it clearly had upset him. “So… If we’re not actually working tonight, where are we really going?”

"I don't care, I just don't want to stay here." He said as he headed down the street, the apartment's main door clicking shut loudly behind them.

“Okay,” said Murphy, his long strides quickly catching up with Oswald to walk along beside him. After a moment, he said: “I think I should start looking for my own place. As much as I like living with you … we can’t keep running the risk that your mom will walk in on us like that again. That … was already far too close.” And that was on a night when they’d thought she’d be out longer at her sister’s. It hadn’t seemed foolish or ill-thought-out at all; they’d had every reason to think they’d be alone all evening. “Do you know …” he paused, and glanced apprehensively over at Oswald’s face as they walked, before continuing. “Do you know how much she suspects? Somehow, I kind of doubt she was just that pissed off about skateboarding.”

Granted, with Gertrud, he supposed that was possible. But as blind as she could be where her son was concerned, Murphy had never gotten the impression that she was stupid. If she hadn’t put two and two together yet, she would soon.

"She knows ... She's in denial and I did nothing to confirm her suspicions but ... She knows." He said shoving his hands in his pants pockets. "I don't want to think about it ... I just want to go somewhere for tonight." He said not wanting to think about his mother or Murphy leaving.

“Okay,” Murphy said gently. He had other questions he wanted to ask, but held his tongue. If Oswald didn’t want to talk about it right now, that was fine. He probably had a lot to think through. At least as long as Gertrud was in denial, there was no reason why this should cause conflict between Oswald and his mother. That was the last thing Murphy wanted to do. “We could always go find a motel and finish what we started,” he said half-jokingly. He didn’t know if Oswald was in the mood anymore, but it could certainly take his mind off of things.

Oswald paused and looked at Murphy. "Really?" He asked rolling his eyes and walking further down the street. He wasn't annoyed with Murphy, he was just .... Confused. Perhaps staying away the night would do him some good though .... Give him time to think.

“Well, we could,” Murphy shrugged. “It was just an idea. We could find something else to do if you want.” Either way, though, he would really like to be alone with Oswald again, at least to talk. Oswald still seemed upset, and Murphy badly wanted to hold him, but if he did that in public, he’d run the risk that some passerby who saw might cause them trouble for it… which Oswald definitely didn’t need right now.

"I want to stay somewhere tonight." Oswald said. "I think there's a motel a few blocks up ...." Oswald said, not sounding too happy at the moment.

“Alright,” Murphy agreed, walking along with Oswald in the direction he’d indicated. He wondered if Oswald would actually be willing to talk to him about what was bothering him when they got there, or if he’d just opt to think things through on his own without telling him what was on his mind. Of course Oswald should handle this however he wanted to, but… Murphy wanted to help. And he felt like a lot of what was bothering Oswald was probably his fault… Just how much unnecessary complication had he brought into Oswald’s life?

Halfway to the motel Oswald moved closer to Murphy and took his hand in his. It was dark enough outside that he doubted anyone would see them on such a deserted street, and to be honest he really didn't care. He pulled Murphy's arm around him, walking close beside him.

Murphy glanced over at Oswald, surprised when Oswald took his hand and pulled his arm around him. But it didn’t look like there was anyone on this street to bother them anyway. Murphy smiled quietly at the affectionate gesture, and contentedly wrapped his arm around him, holding Oswald close to his side as they walked along. He wished they could walk together like this all the time and not have to worry. Why should anyone think it was their business, anyway?

Oswald felt slightly safer, but still upset about what had happened. Once they reached the motel Oswald stepped away from Murphy and stepped through the creaky, metal framed, glass door. It wasn't the best of establishments, but it was short notice, and the only one within walking distance.

"Can we get a room please?" Oswald asked. The man eyed them up, running a hand over his chin.

"We only gah the one room left." The man said still looking back and forth between the two of them.

"We'll take it." Oswald said pulling out his wallet.

"We only got the one, it ain't got two beds. Just a queen size." He said emphasizing the word ‘queen.’

“Duly noted,” said Murphy, crossing his arms and steadily looking back at the man across the counter. “But if it’s all you’ve got, then it’ll just have to do.” He only allowed a little irritation to creep into his tone, and pretended not to notice what the man was clearly implying. He could think whatever he wanted to, but Murphy doubted the man would turn away paying customers, regardless of his opinion of them.

"We don't allow your kind in here ..." The man said glaring right back at Murphy. "Find somewhere else." He said stepping away from the counter.

“What ‘kind,’ exactly?” Murphy said, his tone forcibly even. “People who pay cash instead of credit?” Apparently bigotry took precedence over greed after all. He shook his head and turned to Oswald. “Let’s go,” he sighed. Before Murphy gave into the urge to do something stupid, like punch this asshole in the face.

The man turned to confront Murphy when Oswald slipped a hundred dollar bill through the slot dividing them from the man. "I'm sure this is more than enough to cover whatever room you have left. Though I suppose I could report this to our boss ..... You may know her .... Fish Mooney. She works for-"

"Falcone." The man finished for him. Oswald pursed his lips and nodded.

"Yeah .... See we have some business to discuss tonight, and we need a space to work. I'm sure you can understand."

The man behind the counter glanced down at the 100, then gave Oswald a scrutinizing look, before taking the money and sliding a couple of room keys back through the slot. “Yes, I understand,” he said. “Sorry for the mistake. You’re in room 206. Enjoy your stay.”

Despite the man’s unamused tone Oswald took the keys and smiled. "Thank you." He said heading towards the stairs to the second floor. Once they reached the top he looked at Murphy. "Someone's testy today." He said as they approached room 206. He slipped the key into the door and twisted it open.

Murphy also managed to force a polite smile before following Oswald up to the room. “Sorry,” Murphy sighed as they reached the room. “I just have very limited patience for guys like that. Tact kind of goes out the window.” He glanced over at Oswald, then said: “But you handled that quite masterfully… even if there’s no way a room in this place is worth a hundred dollars.” And he couldn’t help wondering what Mooney would do if she heard Oswald had been dropping her name around just so he and Murphy could get a motel room together. 

Oswald closed the door behind them and and immediately flopped down onto the bed. "I don't care, I just didn't want to walk another fourteen blocks to the next one." He said taking the pin out of his cross tie.

“Fair enough,” Murphy said. He sat on the bed next to Oswald, and looked down at him, concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked, running his fingers lightly through Oswald’s hair.

"Yes." Oswald said looking up at him. "No ... I don't know." He said sitting up on the end of the bed. "I'm just ...." He threw his lands lazily up in the air. "I don't know."

Murphy was quiet for a moment, then said: “You’re worried about what your mom thinks, right? About how long she’ll be able to stay in denial, and whether you’ll be able to make her understand this.” The situation wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to him. But Oswald still had a lot of other uncertainties left to work through as well.

"I don't even know what this is!" Oswald said standing up and pacing the short length of the small room.

“I know,” Murphy said quietly, watching Oswald pace. “And it’s not fair that you have to worry about how to justify it to someone else when you haven’t even figured it all out for yourself. But do you…” Murphy hesitated; he didn’t want to push Oswald for answers he might not have yet. He didn’t want to pressure him into anything. But he wanted so badly to know. “Do you… maybe know what you would want this to be?”

Oswald stopped pacing and was silent before he sat down on the bed again, pulling his legs up under him. "I don't know ... I don't know what I want, I don't know what to do I just ...." He sighed and rested his forehead against his knees. "I don't know .... I'm just so confused .... I like you Murphy I do but .... I don't know what I want from this. It ...." He looked back up, but not at Murphy. "I'm scared."

Murphy turned toward Oswald and put a hand on his shoulder. “What are you scared of?” he asked. He hated how upset Oswald was, and he wanted to help… but what if he was the problem? Oswald had seemed so alone when they’d met, and Murphy had wanted to change that, but… his life had also probably been a lot less complicated.

"All of this ... My mom rejecting me .... You hurting me .... Everyone winds up hurting me ... I'm scared of going any farther with you because I don't want you to hurt me but ....." Oswald stared down at his shoes, hesitating on continuing. "I'm already hurting myself not going further with this ...."

“I would never hurt you,” Murphy blurted out before he could stop himself, then sighed. “And… I know that just saying that doesn’t change anything, and I’m still not sure if you really understand how much I care about you, much less believe it, but …” he laid a hand on Oswald’s knee, the other still resting on his shoulder. “I’d be willing to prove it to you over and over again, for as long as it takes until you’re not scared anymore. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to. And…” he paused, thinking of how to word this. “I agree that your mom probably won’t be able to accept this for a long time. She’ll reject the idea of you being with a man, but … she won’t reject you. She really loves you; she’s not going to turn her back on you, even if you do things she doesn’t approve of.”

Oswald looked up at him, tears pricking his eyes. "You already had hurt me Murphy ... Don't promise something you can't keep your word on."

Looking back into Oswald’s eyes, Murphy felt a sharp pang of guilt. “You’re right,” he said in barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry.” At the time, he’d been so scared to tell the truth. He’d done everything he could think of since then to reassure Oswald that it wouldn’t happen again, but… the damage had already been done. Oswald had already forgiven him, but he would never forget. “But… I still stand by my other promise. That I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

Oswald looked down, a few tears falling down his cheeks. He felt so confused ... Taking this further would show trust .... But he didn't trust Murphy not to hurt him again ....

Seeing tears run down Oswald’s face, Murphy pulled him close into a tight hug. He didn’t know if this was helping at all. As confused as Oswald was, it might be the opposite of what he needed. But Murphy didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. He wanted so badly to fix everything, to make everything alright, but he wasn’t sure that was even possible.

Oswald wasn't sure why but Murphy’s words seemed to set him off. His entire body jerked as he gasped before he broke down crying, his entire body stiff. He hated how weak he was. Was he being dramatic? Was he being stupid? The more he thought about how ridiculous he was being the harder he cried.

Murphy just held Oswald tighter as he cried, one hand running soothingly through the back of Oswald’s hair. He couldn’t think of anything else to say right now that would be remotely helpful. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t just confuse him even more? What reassurance could he give that Oswald could really trust? He wasn’t even sure holding him was the right thing to do, but Oswald hadn’t tried to pull away yet, and he didn’t want to let go. Murphy was shaking slightly. What if Oswald decided that the best and safest solution was to just end this? Murphy didn’t know if he could handle that. Just those five weeks when Oswald wouldn’t talk to him had been painful enough.

Oswald finally calmed down, what had to be at least a half hour later and realized that it wasn't him that was shaking. It was Murphy. He wiped the tears from his face and looked up at Murphy. "Why are you shaking?" He asked.

“Nothing,” Murphy shook his head. “I’m fine.” As if that were going to fool anyone. He sighed. “It’s just… I hate that I’ve caused you to be this upset, and… Do you think…” He didn’t want to finish that thought.

Oswald pulled away from him slightly. "Do I think what?"

“Do you think,” Murphy said quietly, looking down at the generic motel bedspread. “That you might be better off without me?”

Oswald looked at him surprised. Was Murphy trying to put this over on him? Give him a chance to walk away without it being Murphys call? But ..... He'd said he wanted to be with him ....

"I ...." Oswald hesitated not sure what Murphy wanted. "No."

Murphy looked back at him, visibly relieved, though his eyes looked as if he might have been blinking back tears a moment before. “Really?” he asked, watching Oswald’s face, needing to be sure. “Even though everything’s confusing? Even though you still can’t trust me?”

"What happens if we make this more than it is? ..... What happens if ...... If I say yes to being your boyfriend?" He asked.

Murphy took Oswald’s hand in his. “Then I would do everything I could think of to make sure that you were glad you did,” he said. “And that I wouldn’t let you down.”

Oswald sighed and leaned forward kissing Murphy on the lips. "Okay." Oswald said as if he were giving in.

Murphy looked back at Oswald wide-eyed after Oswald had kissed him. “Really?” He paused, trying to reign in his hopes before they got too high. “Do you mean okay as in ‘okay that’s what would happen,’ or okay as in… yes?”

Oswald took a shaky breath. "I mean ... Yes ... I'll be your boyfriend." He said hating how juvenile that sounded, but he supposed that made them official either way.

Murphy broke into a big ecstatically happy grin, before he threw his arms around Oswald and kissed him.

Oswald moaned against the kiss before pulling back. "Ow ... Oww ... Murphy!" He said as if he were in pain. "You're killing me! Ow!" He said rolling onto his side. "You said you'd never hurt me Murphy!" He said accusingly.

For a brief moment, Murphy looked at Oswald with bewildered concern as he pulled away, but quickly realized that he was messing around. “What have I done?” he said, leaning over Oswald and kissing lightly down his neck. “How can I make it up to you?”

Oswald smirked as he grabbed onto the corner of the pillow at the head of the bed. He pulled it down by the pillowcase and smiled as he swung it up, straight into Murphy's face with a rather loud 'boof'. Oswald burst out laughing as he rolled away from Murphy.

“Hey!” Murphy laughed as the pillow knocked him back. “I thought we were having a tender moment here.” He grabbed the other pillow and swung it at Oswald’s face in retaliation. “Way to ruin it with your unwarranted pillow warfare!”

"Warfare?!" Oswald asked. "It's only war if you retaliate!" Oswald said picking up the pillow and swinging at him. "Besides ..... I think I've had enough thinking .... I need some fun!"

Murphy blocked Oswald’s swing with his pillow and swung back at him. “Fine, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because we’re officially dating now.”

"I thought that's why you went for men ..." He said laughing as he jumped onto the bed and hopped down to the floor on the other side. "Come on, you can do better than that." He said picking up a small flimsy pillow from a chair nearby and chucked it across the room at him.

“A comment could be made about throwing like a girl,” Murphy laughed, picking up the flimsy pillow Oswald had just thrown at him and flinging it back, before lunging across the bed and swinging hard at him with the larger pillow.

Oswald ducked, the pillow swishing over his head so closely he felt his hair move, and he brought his own pillow back before swinging it into Murphy's torso.

The pillow hit with a loud thud, and Murphy fell backwards onto the bed, grabbing at Oswald’s pillow and pulling it out of his hands as he went down, so that it couldn’t be used against him again.

"Hey that's cheating." He said as he was tugged forward, the pillow ripped from his hands. He fell forwards landing on top of Murphy as he climbed up over him to try to reach the pillow.

“Oh, and climbing on me isn’t!?” Murphy retorted, keeping a firm grip on the pillow and doing his best to hold it out of Oswald’s reach… which was not an easy task with Oswald on top of him. “Just because I’m taller than you doesn’t mean I’m a jungle-gym.” He tried to shove Oswald off of him… but that too was a little more difficult than usual while trying to keep ahold of both his pillow and Oswald’s.

Oswald reached his hand down, unable to reach the pillow there was only one thing he could fall back on. Tickling.

He ran his fingers up Murphy's side, wondering if he was even ticklish.

Murphy flinched, trying to twist away from Oswald’s fingers. “Hey!” he protested, laughing involuntarily. “That is definitely cheating!” He swung the pillow at Oswald’s face in self-defense.

Oswald grabbed the pillow as it swung at him and climbed off the bed running to the foot. "It's mine now!"

Murphy burst out laughing at just how immature Oswald was being. He’d never seen him act this way before. But whatever worked to take his mind off of things. “Not for long, it isn’t!” Murphy went after him with the other pillow, swinging at him over and over again relentlessly.

"No! You won't get it back!" Oswald said turning his back to him and hugging his pillow, laughing as the pillow hit his back.

“The maturity level in this room has officially gone down to zero…” Murphy said, shaking his head. “Now give me that pillow!” He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Oswald and pulling him close, while trying to pry his hands off of the pillow.

Oswald laughed as he pressed back into Murphy, clutching the pillow harder, unintentionally pushing back into him.

As Oswald pushed back into him, Murphy was forced to take a step backwards for balance, only to back right into the foot of the bed and send them toppling over backwards. He managed to keep a firm hold on Oswald as they both fell onto the bed. Murphy grabbed the pillow out of Oswald’s hands and threw it away from them, before taking ahold of Oswald’s wrists and pinning him down on the bed. “I win,” he smirked.

Oswald looked up at him as he pinned his wrists beside his head. "Cheater." Oswald panted as Murphy laid between his legs.

“Hey, at least I didn’t resort to such underhanded tactics as tickling,” Murphy pointed out, before leaning in and kissing him.

Oswald laughed slightly kissing Murphy back, gently tugging at Murphy's hands to pull his wrists away, but it was a half-hearted attempt. In a way he didn't want Murphy to let him go.

As he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Oswald’s mouth, Murphy felt Oswald’s wrists pulling slightly against him. He didn’t seem to be trying particularly hard, and he was kissing him back ... But just in case, Murphy loosened his grip just enough that Oswald would be able to pull himself free if he really wanted to. He felt his cock start to stiffen in his pants. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at Oswald, hardly able to believe that he’d said yes, that he was willing to take a chance on a relationship with him. “But I can’t let you keep up these unwarranted acts of pillow aggression,” he said, nipping playfully at his ear. “So what should I do with you?”

Oswald smirked and rolled his hips up against Murphy's, his cock rubbing against his through the material of their pants. "You did say you had a few ideas ...." Oswald said with a grin.

Murphy smiled down at him. “So I do,” he said, his hands moving from Oswald’s wrists, down his arms, then trailing down his sides until he reached his belt. He leaned in to kiss him again, while undoing Oswald’s belt and unfastening the front of his pants, reaching in to pull out Oswald’s cock and stroking at it slowly.

Oswald moaned as he rolled his hips up against Murphy's hand. He leaned up and gave Murphy a quick peck. "I love it when you touch me."

Murphy continued stroking at Oswald’s cock, kissing lightly down his neck. “That works out nicely,” he said. “Since I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you.” His free hand tugged at Oswald’s pants, pulling them down his hips. “I don’t think you’ll be needing these the rest of the evening.” 

Oswald helped Murphy pull his pants off, wiggling a bit to help him until his pants were around his knees and he pulled Murphy down to him, his tongue slipping into his mouth.

Murphy moaned into the kiss, his mouth working against Oswald’s as he slipped his tongue inside. He undid the front of his pants and pulled out his hardened cock, rubbing it against Oswald’s as he rolled his hips forward, his hands running down Oswald’s sides.

Oswald pushed Murphy back until he was able to sit up and pulled his jacket off, uncaring as he tossed it onto the floor. He'd worry about it later.

He moved his hand grasping onto Murphy's cock stroking it gently. "Murphy ... I .... I want ..." He panted his face turning red with embarrassment.

“Yes?” Murphy asked, running a hand through Oswald’s hair. It really was adorable when he blushed like that. “Tell me what you want.”

Oswald bit his lip a moment before he wiggled down on the bed between Murphy's legs until his head was directly under Murphy's cock. He kissed the base of it, glancing up at Murphy.

“Oh,” Murphy sighed in pleasure as Oswald kissed the base of his cock. He loved how quickly Oswald could go from timid to bold.“Yes, please,” he murmured.

Oswald smirked at how polite Murphy was ... He'd have to do something about that. He loved it when Murphy lost control, and this politeness just wouldn't do.

Oswald licked up the underside from base to tip before taking the tip into his mouth, sucking on the head, his tongue running circles around the slit before delving into it, tasting precum on his tongue.

Murphy gasped as Oswald licked up the underside of his cock. He closed his eyes, a low moan escaping his lips as Oswald took the head into his mouth. “God, that feels amazing, Oswald,” he whispered, reaching down and running his fingers through Oswald’s hair.

Oswald's hands moved up to Murphy's clothed thighs as he sucked on him, his head bobbing up and down on Murphy's cock, gagging slightly when he went too far but the more he did this the more he got used to it, and the more he liked it.

Murphy began to move his hips slightly in time with Oswald’s sucking, still trying to refrain from moving too much, for fear of making things difficult for Oswald. He opened his eyes again and looked down to see if Oswald seemed alright, his cock disappearing into Oswald’s mouth over and over again.

Oswald moaned around his cock as he started moving his hips against him, his belt jingling next to his head with each slight movement. He ran his hands up and squeezed Murphy's cheeks through his pants sucking on him harder before laying his head back against the bed, his cock leaving his mouth with a soft pop.

"If you want it ... You'll have to come get it." Oswald smirked, his hand going down to his own cock and stroking himself lightly.

Murphy groaned in protest as his cock abruptly left Oswald’s mouth. He looked down at Oswald’s smirking face, a little surprised. “I can do that,” he said, placing a hand under Oswald’s chin and tilting his face up toward his cock. “When did you get so demanding though, hmm?”

"When you got me hard and I decided I want your dick in my mouth." Oswald said leaning forward and teasing his cock with his tongue again before resting his head back on the bed again.

Murphy’s hips moved forward slightly as Oswald licked teasingly at his cock. “You’re kind of evil, you know that?” he said. He tugged lightly at Oswald’s hair.

"You're the one hesitating." Oswald said licking him again, enticing him to go into his mouth.

“Because I’m also slightly evil,” he admitted, before giving in and thrusting his cock into Oswald’s mouth. He couldn’t have resisted much longer, not with Oswald’s tongue driving him mad like that, anyway. But he’d at least managed a valiant effort at self-control, rather than immediately following Oswald’s demand.

Oswald moaned as Murphy plunged his cock into his mouth, his hands groping Murphy's ass as he sucked on his cock. He loved it when Murphy did this.

Murphy continued thrusting in and out of Oswald’s mouth, pulling at his hair, bringing him further up his shaft. At this point, he would just have to trust Oswald to stop him if it was too much… though the way he was grabbing at his ass, Murphy could reasonably assume he was still more than alright with this.

After a few moments Oswald turned his head to the side, Murphy's cock slipping from his mouth. He stroked his cock with his hand as he caught his breath before turning back to him and taking it back into his mouth.

Murphy moaned as Oswald took him back into his mouth, driving his cock in and out at a quickening pace, thrusting over and over again as Oswald sucked, already feeling his orgasm building. “Oswald,” Murphy gasped, while he still had just enough presence of mind to get the words out. “I-I’m going to cum.” If Oswald wanted to pull away, now would be the time.

Oswald gagged on Murphy's cock as he fucked his mouth, his belt jingling more with each quickened thrust. He barely heard Murphy say he was going to cum, and pulled his pants down further. He ran two fingers down the crack of Murphy's ass before pressing between his cheeks and rubbing against his puckered hole.

Murphy shivered and let out a low moan as Oswald’s fingers ran down his crack, the sensation of Oswald’s fingers rubbing against his hole sending him over the edge, and his hands clenched in Oswald’s hair as he thrust forward hard into his mouth, gasping out Oswald’s name as he came.

Oswald gagged hard on his cock, unable to even taste his cum as he shot straight down his throat. Oswald gripped onto Murphy's pants as his head was pushed into the mattress with Murphy's hips. He teared up as Murphy started pulling back, a bit of cum spurting out onto his tongue as Murphy shallowly moved it in and out of his mouth riding out his orgasm.

Once Murphy had finished, the last of his shallow thrusts subsiding, he carefully pulled off of Oswald, moving over to the side, still panting, trying to catch his breath. “You alright?” he asked, looking down at him. Even though Oswald seemed to enjoy making him lose control like that, Murphy still couldn’t help being a little concerned out of habit.

Oswald coughed as he caught his breath. "Yes." He said his hand still lazily moving over his own unbelievably hard erection.

“Apparently,” Murphy said, smirking down at Oswald’s erection. He leaned in and kissed him, his hand trailing down to stroke slowly at Oswald’s cock. “So, how would you like me to take care of that for you? Because I can think of a few options you might like.”

Oswald let go of his cock as Murphy grasped him and he shifted his hips up against his hand. "God Murphy ...." He panted. "I don't care just make me cum, please."

“Of course,” Murphy said. Poor Oswald had held out so long already. “But would you be interested in trying anal tonight? You were groping my ass pretty enthusiastically earlier.” He watched Oswald’s face for any indication of how comfortable he was with the idea right now. Then again, it was possible that he didn’t currently have the patience to try anything new.

"I ..." Oswald paused shivering slightly with nerves. "I don't think ... I mean I-I-I don't ...." He turned red in the face at his sudden nerves. "I wouldn't know what to do .... I don't want to hurt you." He said still not understanding how that could be pleasurable.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Murphy reassured him, running a hand soothingly through Oswald’s hair. “And I’d talk you through it. If you’re not up for it, that’s okay. But you really don’t have to worry about me.”

 

Oswald shook nervously. "O-okay." He said moving up slightly on the bed.

Murphy reached over to his coat pocket and pulled out a small tube of lubricant that he’d recently purchased in case they happened to need it when he was away from his gym bag. Admittedly, he’d been rather hopeful this afternoon. He removed the cap and squeezed some onto his hand and rubbed it gently over Oswald’s cock.

“So it’ll go in more easily,” he said, though Oswald probably remembered the concept from when he’d fingered him. But reminding him of that precaution might ease his worrying just a little. He was still trembling from nervousness. Hopefully, that would change once they created some more positive memories… But he probably couldn’t expect Oswald to take charge much just yet.

Oswald moaned as Murphy rubbed lube over his aching shaft, his head resting against the bed as he shifted his hips. He nodded at what Murphy said though it did little to ease his nerves. Still .... He wanted to cum so badly and he was curious to what this felt like.

Satisfied that he’d applied enough lube to Oswald’s shaft, Murphy looked down at him. He still looked so nervous about this. Better to keep this as low-pressure for Oswald as possible. As much as he’d like to see Oswald take control, right now it was more important to give him confidence that he wasn’t going to accidentally hurt him. He straddled Oswald’s hips. “This position should be easiest for you; there’s pretty much no way you can hurt me, okay?” he reassured him again, before he lowered himself onto Oswald’s cock, taking it in his hand and angling it toward his hole, the head slipping inside, before he gradually began to work his way further down the shaft.

Oswald's mouth opened in a silent moan and his hands moved as if he didn't know where to put them a moment before he gripped the sheets. Murphy was tight and hot around the head of his shaft, it felt so good. "Murphy ..." He moaned, his eyes closed with pleasure.

Murphy smiled slightly at Oswald’s reaction, and continued to work his way further and further down Oswald’s shaft, a low moan escaping him as he did. It had been so long, and he had to take it slow at first, since he was a little tight, but that only made the feeling of Oswald’s cock pushing up inside him more intense.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Oswald asked as Murphy moaned. Oswald couldn't tell if it was a painful or pleasured moan, but the look on his face it seemed pleasant. Could it really feel that good? He looked down to where Murphy was pushing down farther and farther onto his cock. He knew he wasn't big by any standards, but Murphy seemed impossibly stretched around him. At least in Oswald's opinion.

Murphy shook his head. “Not at all,” he said honestly, reaching down and running a hand through Oswald’s hair. “I’ve been wanting to do this with you for awhile now.” He continued to move further down Oswald’s cock until he had taken him inside completely, moaning again as he felt Oswald’s hips against his cheeks. He began to gradually increase the pace as he rode up and down Oswald’s shaft, loving the feeling of Oswald’s hard cock sliding in and out of him.

Oswald's nerves started fading with each stroke and within moments he was panting, thrusting up into him. "God Murphy ...." He panted. "Please .... Faster ...."

Murphy nodded. He quickly picked up the pace, moving up and down Oswald’s cock, driving the shaft inside himself harder and faster. “Y-you know,” he gasped breathlessly. “You could control the pace if you topped me.” He couldn’t help suggesting it. Oswald didn’t seem at all nervous now, and Murphy wanted so badly for Oswald to fuck him.

Oswald looked up at him nervously, but he wasn't hurting him and Murphy did seem to want this .... And he had to admit he wanted nothing more than to comply, but ... Could he?

He sat up, placing his hand on Murphy's chest pushing him back off of his cock. "G-" He paused and cleared his throat. "Then get on your hands on knees." He said though it was more meek than commanding.

Murphy looked back at Oswald, surprised as he pushed him away, then broke into a huge grin. Though Oswald’s tone seemed far too timid to be really commanding, Murphy liked the direction things were going. “Gladly,” he said, pulling off of Oswald and going to his hands and knees, obeying his words while ignoring the lack of confidence in his voice. Murphy glanced over his shoulder at him. “Go on, then,” he said.

Oswald was surprised by how quickly Murphy complied. Did he like being told what to do? Oswald got behind him and shook again with nerves.

"Are you sure about this?" Oswald asked staring down at Murphy's ass.

“Completely,” said Murphy, pressing his ass against Oswald’s hardened cock. “What was it you said to me earlier? If you want it, you’ll have to come get it?”

Oswald smirked as he mounted him, pressing his cock against his puckered hole and started pushing back into him, using his hand to guide himself until he was nearly all the way in. He took his hand away and braced himself on the bed on either side of Murphy pressing the rest of the way in.

Murphy moaned and pushed back against him as Oswald’s cock pressed all the way inside him, loving the way it felt.

Oswald moved slowly, almost cautiously in and out of Murphy, still scared he'd hurt him even though Murphy had been riding him faster. "Is this .... Is this okay?" Oswald asked unsure of himself.

Murphy nodded, pushing against him more as Oswald cautiously slid inside him, as if trying to drive him in harder. “Yes,” he said, a little breathlessly. “Just… please, Oswald, go faster.” He knew Oswald wanted to. As much as he appreciated Oswald’s concern about hurting him, he really wanted to see Oswald gain more confidence.

"Tell me to stop if I'm hurting you, or if you don't like it." Hurting Murphy wasn't his only concern. This was technically the first time he'd had sex before and probably wouldn't be that good. But despite that he leaned over Murphy and started thrusting into him faster, his hips hitting Murphy's cheeks with each thrust. "You feel so good Murphy." Oswald moaned as he moved over him.

Murphy gasped as Oswald’s cock thrust into him faster, and pushed back against him with each thrust, driving him as far in as possible. He shivered slightly as he heard Oswald moan, his own cock already starting to harden again. “God, Oswald, you’re amazing,” Murphy murmured. If Oswald knew what this was doing to him, any nervousness that was left wouldn’t stand a chance.

With each thrust Oswald could feel his orgasm building closer and closer. "Murphy ... I-I-I .... I'm not going to .... To last much longer." He said panting as he started thrusting harder and faster into him.

Murphy moaned, still pushing against him in time to each thrust, as hard and fast as Oswald was, putting his whole body into the movement, his hands gripping the sheets.

With how warm and tight Murphy was around his shaft Oswald could feel himself on the brink, knew he would cum any second now. But this felt so good he didn't want it to end. He placed his hands on Murphy's shoulders pushing him into the bed as he fucked him harder, seeking out his own orgasm.

"Murphy I'm going to cum." He panted as he thrust in and out of him.

As Oswald pushed him down into the mattress, Murphy continued to move against him, his cock rubbing against the soft sheets as Oswald fucked him. “Go ahead,” Murphy answered breathlessly. “I want you to cum hard inside me.” The words had slipped out… He hoped that nothing he’d just said was triggering to Oswald; hopefully, it wouldn’t be an issue while Oswald was on top, but after the last time it had happened, Murphy had been so careful.

Oswald stiffened as he came, shuddering as his body was wracked with pleasure. He panted in Murphy's ear as he spilled inside of him.

Murphy still pushed back against him as he felt Oswald shudder, breathing hard, heart pounding, clutching the sheets as he felt Oswald’s orgasm spill over.

Oswald stilled as he felt his orgasm ease and then stop. He relaxed against Murphy, laying against his back, his cock softening inside of him as he kissed Murphy's back.

"That felt so good." He whispered, trying to catch his breath.

Murphy relaxed under him, resting, content to let Oswald lay on top of him for as long as he wanted. He smiled when Oswald kissed his back. “I’m glad,” he said. He’d really, really wanted this to be a good experience for Oswald. “Something you wouldn’t mind doing again, I take it?”

"Mmmm I'd do that any time you want me to." Oswald said kissing his back again before rolling off of Murphy onto the bed.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Murphy smirked, rolling over onto his side to look at Oswald before leaning in and kissing him.

Despite all the worries that still hung on the horizon, this had turned out to be a pretty good evening. There was still no doubt that Murphy was going to need to get his own apartment, and he knew that Oswald wouldn’t risk upsetting Gertrud by moving out with him anytime soon… But he was fairly certain that Oswald would visit him every chance he got.

Oswald yawned tiredly and glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight. Despite his late hours at the club he found he started to grow tired around eleven or so, and fought through the end of his shifts. 

"Bed time?" Oswald asked through another yawn.

Murphy nodded. “Definitely,” he agreed. It would be nice to go to sleep at a reasonable hour for once. And they’d both tired themselves out enough that he knew they’d sleep well tonight. He sat up and retrieved the two pillows from where they’d ended up during the course of their earlier pillow fight, then tossed one over to Oswald.


	25. Chapter 25

Oswald walked past the bar with his records book in his hand. He sat at the bar before opening time, making sure the numbers added up, all money was accounted for, and recorded the time each employee started so far. Lazlo was late .... Again.

"Come on man, it's only ten minutes. Mooney will have my hide." Lazlo said glancing around to see if Miss Mooney was around. "Cover my ass Oswald!"

Oswald pursed his lips, almost in a mock sympathetic look. "Sorry Lazlo, no can do .... You should have been here ten minutes ago."

Returning to the bar with a case of whiskey from the back room, Murphy subtly gave Oswald a look of quiet amusement. He wasn’t terribly sympathetic toward Lazlo. The guy hadn’t even given Oswald a reason why he was late in the first place. Besides, he was kind of an asshole, in Murphy’s opinion. And he couldn’t be too terribly bright, making fun of Oswald for weeks before turning around and asking for favours.

"Oswald ...." Lazlo said. 

"You're wasting company time now Lazlo .... Would you like me to mark you as fifteen minutes late since you aren't actually working?" He asked waving his hand as if to shoo him away.

“Okay! Fine, I’m going,” Lazlo said irritably. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.” He shot Oswald an angry look before going to unstack the chairs.

It took a significant effort of will for Murphy to avoid openly chuckling over the little interaction. “You know,” he said quietly, as he continued to set up the bar area. “It’s oddly therapeutic watching you call people on their bullshit.” And he thoroughly enjoyed watching Oswald display more confidence.

Oswald smiled gently as he looked back at the book, his pen in his left hand as he moved it over the pages, filling out each spot. 

It wasn’t long before Fish strode into the establishment, stopping to casually exchange a few quiet words with Butch at the door, her gaze quickly surveilling the club to see that all was as it should be. She had trained Oswald to the point that he was able to oversee more and more of the smaller details. He was competent enough and afraid enough of crossing her that he was able to help keep things running smoothly, while Mooney still remained firmly in control. Of course, he had recently overstepped a boundary again, even if it was a minor one… but overall, her umbrella boy had proven himself a useful addition.

She walked over to where he was sitting, going over the books at the bar … Which was unsurprising. He was always by the bar, when he wasn’t directly at her side. Though he hadn’t taken to drinking, like some of the others she’d had to let go. No, her little pet had a different vice. And, though it hadn’t interfered with his work yet, it had already started to go to his head. It was best to step in and put his priorities in perspective for him, before it got out of hand.

“Oswald,” she said, briefly pausing her stride to look over at him. “Once you’re done with the books, I’ll want a private word with you.” She turned on her heel, then added, as if it were an afterthought: “Oh, and bring Murphy too. Ricardo can take over for him at the bar.”

"Of course Miss. Mooney." He said. After a few weeks of working here, and Murphy's influence on him his confidence had boosted enough that ... Well he wasn't exactly confident, but his stutter had, for the most part, stopped. "I should be done in a few moments." He said glancing at Murphy.

Murphy nodded, returning Oswald’s glance with a look of slight confusion. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. Once Miss. Mooney had walked safely out of earshot, Murphy murmured: “Any idea what this is about?”

"Not a clue." Oswald hurried to finished the last of the records and closed it, quickly putting it away. He didn't want to keep her waiting. He met Murphy by the bar before making his way to her table in front of the stage.

Once Oswald and Murphy approached her table, Fish stood and, without explanation, headed for the stairs, gesturing for them to follow her. Murphy couldn’t find even the slightest hint in her expression of what kind of mood she was in. That always made him uneasy.

Oswald looked up at Murphy nervously as he headed up the stairs, every instinct telling him to run in the other direction. But he would never go against Miss. Mooney. 

Oswald’s nervous glance didn’t make Murphy feel any better about this; even if Oswald had no idea what Miss. Mooney wanted either, he spent more than enough time with her to know when there was cause to be nervous.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Fish sauntered into the same bedroom where Murphy and Oswald had first spent the night together. Murphy glanced suspiciously at the potted plant, wondering whether the camera was still there, or whether it had been moved elsewhere. No doubt Miss. Mooney knew that they’d discovered it. It occurred to Murphy that the same camera might have picked up what Tony and his pals had done as well. He cringed inwardly at the thought. Not for the first time, he wondered just how much humiliating blackmail material Miss. Mooney had on Oswald by now, and how much more she planned on collecting.

“Murphy, go stand over there,” Fish ordered, gesturing with one manicured hand to a corner across from the bed. “You get to watch… which, by the way, isn’t a privilege I grant just anyone.”

Murphy glanced uneasily from Oswald to Miss. Mooney, but didn’t dare argue. He still couldn’t be sure where Miss. Mooney was taking this, whether either of them was in trouble or for what. And the last time he’d tried to intervene when Oswald was in trouble, he’d only made things worse. So Murphy kept his mouth shut and went to stand where she’d directed him to. 

 

Fish smiled slightly at Murphy’s confusion, before turning to look down at Oswald. The contrast between the two men couldn’t have been greater … which was no doubt why it had slipped her notice for so long that their little connection had developed into an ongoing relationship. Despite all the evidence of what was going on, it still didn’t make much sense to her. Using Oswald, teasing him, getting a rise out of him… she could see the appeal in that. His reactions were just priceless. But for anything more than that, Murphy was well out of this awkward little man’s league. She had to wonder what the bartender’s game was, and what use he had for her Penguin. She’d find out eventually.

“Oswald,” Fish said in a pleasant voice, tilting Oswald’s chin up toward her with her fingertips. “You really have made a great deal of progress since you started here. Have you stopped to reflect at all on just how much you’ve improved?” She didn’t hand out praise very frequently; she had high expectations and everyone knew it. But Oswald had first skulked in here without even the flimsiest shred of confidence, and seemed to respond well to having his ego stroked occasionally.

"I .... No Miss. Mooney .... I really don't feel that I've improved at all .... I just do what I'm told to." He said smiling nervously, with a slight shrug. 

“Oh, but you have improved,” Fish smirked. Her little pet was always so respectful. He knew his place by now … for the most part, anyway. “I don’t waste my time complimenting people who haven’t earned it. Your job performance has gotten more efficient, more thorough, you present yourself better,” she tugged lightly at his tie. That last statement was true enough; in his tailored suits, this odd-looking little man had cleaned up as well as he was ever going to. “Though …” she added, as if just remembering after a second thought. “There was that one recent little slip in your professionalism … throwing my name around for leverage just so you and Murphy could get a motel room together. Did you really think I would approve of that?”

It might have been a crappy motel where Fish would never be caught dead staying herself … but it was in one of her territories, nonetheless. Thinking she wouldn’t know what went on there was a beginner’s mistake.

Oswald opened his mouth to answer and paused, blinking nervously as he looked at Murphy.

"Don't look at him," Mooney said snapping her fingers at him like one would to keep a pet’s attention. "Look at me." 

 

Oswald dutifully looked back at Mooney. "I-I- .... I'm sorry Miss. Mooney it's just .... He was a very rude man, he ... I .... I'm sorry I'm making excuses. Please forgive me .... I had meant no disrespect ... I was just tired and he wouldn't give us a room and ...."

“It’s true, Miss. Mooney,” Murphy interjected, for whatever it was worth. “He didn’t mean anything by it; we were just tired and we didn’t know what else to do.”

Fish held up a hand to silence them both. “Murphy,” she said coolly, not even looking at him, her unamused stare still focused directly on Oswald. “If I want to hear from my umbrella boy’s fuck-buddy, I will be sure to let you know. Oswald… You’re still making excuses. I know I taught you how to apologize better than that.”

Oswald shivered slightly with nerves. It had been a long time since she'd had him grovel but .... He knew it wasn't something that Miss. Mooney was beyond doing.

Oswald didn't bother glancing at Murphy before he slowly moved onto his knees, staring at the floor. "I'm so sorry Miss. Mooney ... No excuses, I shouldn't have done it ...." 

Murphy winced as Oswald went down onto his knees in front of Miss. Mooney. But there was nothing he could do or say to help the situation, especially after she’d already reprimanded him for speaking up once. So he remained silent in his corner, fearfully hoping that   
Miss. Mooney didn’t take things any further than this. If Miss. Mooney hurt Oswald, Murphy didn’t think he had it in him to just stand idly by and watch.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Fish crossed her arms as she looked down at him. He really was still just as pathetic as he’d ever been. “And after all the promise you were starting to show around here,” she shook her head, sounding genuinely disappointed. “I really did expect better from you. But I can’t have this sort of thing happening again every time you and your boy-toy get … tired. Now Oswald, what could you possibly do to make it up to me?”

Oswald stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to that. She knew he'd do anything for her, it was only a matter of what she wanted from him. There wasn't much beyond his job that he had to offer.

“Penguin,” Fish said in a warning tone, lifting her foot to brush against Oswald’s groin lightly, with the top of her foot, rather than with the pointed heel underneath … but the danger was still implied. “I asked you a question.”

Oswald jumped slightly and forced himself not to back away despite the slight pressure against his groin. "I-I-I-I I don't know ... Please Miss. Mooney." 

Murphy moved as if he were about to step forward, but a glance from Miss. Mooney stopped him. There was nothing he could do that would end well. Anything he did would just make things worse for Oswald. So he stayed put, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Fish lowered her foot back to the floor, a smirk on her face, then reached down and pulled at the back of Oswald’s hair, tilting his head back slightly to look up at her. With her other hand, she gently caressed the side of his face. “I really would hate to stay mad at you …” Where else would she find and train such an obedient pet? “So here’s what we’ll do. If you can please me tonight,” her tone made it clear that she meant it as a euphemism. “Then I’ll forgive you, and forget all about this.”

Murphy’s eyes widened. This … this was what Miss. Mooney wanted him to watch?

"I-I .... What?" Oswald asked confused. She couldn't mean .... He wanted to look over to Murphy but he knew better. She couldn't possibly mean .....

“Do you really expect me to repeat myself?” Miss. Mooney said, with a deadpan look. “Or are you just playing innocent and dumb because your boyfriend’s watching? Haven’t you told him by now about that little bit of fun we had after your job orientation?”

Murphy suddenly felt cold. Just how many times had Miss. Mooney harassed Oswald? From the look on Oswald’s face, he could assume it had never gone this far before, but … but why did she have to keep humiliating him like this, grinding his dignity back down again when he’d finally started to show some sense of self-esteem? Wasn’t he downtrodden enough already?

 

Fish looked over at the shocked and angry expression on Murphy’s face. “Apparently not,” she observed.

Oswald swallowed nervously. "W-what do you want me to do?" He asked so quietly even he barely heard it.

Fish almost pitied the pathetic little man, but it was so entertaining to make him grovel ... And he had gotten far too good at it. “You can start,” she said, sitting down on the bed, her tight designer dress riding up slightly. “By putting that tongue of yours to work. Go down on me. You can think of it as a little experiment … See how naturally you take to it.”

Murphy winced. This … this was wrong. Whether Oswald was even interested in women, that was something he should be able to figure out in his own time and his own way. Not like this. And … and … Murphy didn’t want to watch him with someone else. Even the thought of it upset him.

This time Oswald did chance a glance at Murphy, unable to stop himself. "I ... I can't ..." Oswald said closing his eyes. He couldn't betray Murphy like that ... It felt wrong to him.

Murphy stared in surprise, touched that Oswald had actually dared stand up to Miss. Mooney for his sake… but he was terrified of what might happen now. He couldn’t let Oswald get into worse trouble because of him. Not again. “Miss. Mooney,” he started to say quietly. “Please-”

Fish gave Murphy an icy look, silencing him, before shaking her head disappointedly down at Oswald. She could respect the loyalty, but she needed his first loyalty to be to her. Letting people’s personal lives keep them from obeying orders was no way to run a business in Gotham. She thought she understood, now, what he was doing with the Penguin. He was so far out of Oswald’s league that Oswald would do or risk anything just to keep him. But Fish couldn’t afford to have Oswald under anyone’s thumb but hers.

“We’ll deal with your indiscretion at the motel another way,” she said. “Murphy,” she cast a sidelong look in his direction. “I do hope you’re worth it.” She moved forward to stand up.

“Wait,” Murphy said quietly, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. “Oswald … it’s okay. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me, so … so whatever you do, I won’t be angry.” Not at Oswald, anyway. He didn’t know how harsh Miss. Mooney intended to be about this… but he was worried nonetheless. And if Oswald could get out of whatever punishment Miss. Mooney had in mind by doing this … Murphy still didn’t like it, but he didn’t want Oswald to think he would hold it against him.

Fish looked at Murphy and shook her head. "Boy if another word comes out of your mouth-"

"Okay ..." Oswald said interrupting her, hoping he wouldn't be punished for it. "I ... I'll do anything you want ..." He said quietly, his voice squeaking near the end.

“Oh, really?” Fish raised an eyebrow slightly as she regarded Oswald. “So all you needed was your boyfriend’s permission?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve gotten a little confused about who your boss is.”

Fish found that mildly concerning; Oswald was easy to control, which was probably why Murphy bothered with him … but if that started to determine who Oswald answered to at work, then they were going to have a problem. That might even be exactly what the bartender had in mind … if he was stupid enough to think he could play that game. It would be easy enough to discourage him, though.

“But I think we can set that straight.” She sat back on the bed, leaning back slightly. “Now, do you need me to repeat what I want you to do?”

"N-No ma'am." He said swallowing nervously as he moved a bit closer to her. He still wasn't sure what to do, but he would have to do it.

Fish lay back on the bed. “Still so hesitant,” she said, pulling up her skirt slightly. “Think you can figure it out?”

Murphy managed to keep his mouth shut for now; Miss. Mooney had made it clear that she didn’t want to hear from him. He hated that there was nothing he could do to get Oswald out of this.

Oswald glanced up at her, noticing that she wasn't wearing any panties. Oswald's entire face turned red right up to his ears with embarrassment. He moved closer and closed his eyes for a moment before he leaned forward and tentatively licked her, the tip of his tongue barely touching her before he pulled away slightly.

It tasted weird ... Not unpleasant but he had to say Murphy tasted a lot better.

Miss. Mooney moved her legs a little further apart, smirking slightly at Oswald’s obvious embarrassment. “Having second thoughts already?” she said drily. “I might feel a little insulted.” She still half expected the nervous little man to back out; he clearly didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

In the corner, Murphy forced himself to stay put and not make things any worse. He crossed his arms, hiding the fact that his hands were both clenched into trembling fists. It was bad enough seeing Oswald demeaned under any circumstances in the first place, but he couldn’t stand watching this. He wanted nothing more than to just grab Oswald and run out the door with him, but he doubted they would get very far, let alone with their jobs still intact.

"No, Miss. Mooney." Oswald said before closing his eyes and leaning forward again, his tongue playing over her clit. His mind kept going over how he didn't know what he was doing ... At least with Murphy he'd told him what to do. He'd been caring and helped him along the way. This just made him nervous.

He kept moving his tongue over her, hoping he was at least doing something right.

“Hmm,” Fish sighed as Oswald’s tongue moved over her clit. She wondered if Oswald even knew what a clitoris was or if he’d just fumbled across it by accident. After all, there was no reason for Murphy to have taught him that. And he was clumsy enough about it that she was still certain he’d never been with a woman. “So you are going to try after all.”

Murphy glanced away, his face reddening as Oswald went down on Miss. Mooney. Why had he said he was okay with this? He had to have been completely crazy.

Oswald's face turned even redder when Fish spoke. Did he really have a choice? He didn't respond to what she'd said, just tried to focus on what he was doing.

Fish ran her polished nails through Oswald’s choppy and uneven hair. She glanced over and saw that Murphy’s gaze was turned toward the floor. “Murphy,” she said sharply. “Did I say you could look away?”

“No, ma’am. Sorry,” he said, looking back up to see Miss. Mooney’s hands running through Oswald’s hair as she let out another breathy sigh. A stab of jealousy hit him. Even if she did control both their lives, she still shouldn’t get to just … she didn’t care about Oswald the way he did, didn’t appreciate or respect him the way he did, so what gave her the right to put her hands all over him like that?

Oswald pulled away for a moment when her fingers touched his hair. But only for a moment. He closed his eyes as he pressed his tongue inside of her, hoping this was what she wanted and he wasn't overstepping his boundaries. Even her fingers in his hair felt wrong. Her fingers were thin, her nails scraping gently over his scalp. It didn't feel bad, just ... It wasn't Murphy.

Even despite how wrong this was in his mind though, his body was betraying him. Was reacting the way any male would when put into his position. He could feel his cock already pressing against the inside of his pants and he tried to will it to go away. Prayed that Murphy wouldn't see ... Wouldn't think he was enjoying this ... But he couldn't control it. He felt so ashamed. He wasn't even being touched and he was getting hard. Perhaps in a way he enjoyed being dominated and humiliated. Some part of him liked this but ... It was still so wrong.

Fish’s hips rolled forward slightly in response as Oswald’s tongue pressed inside her, a little surprised that he’d been bold enough to try it. But then, he was no doubt trying everything he could think of that might be pleasurable to her. Despite how clumsy Oswald’s amateur efforts were, Fish found herself aroused by how obedient her little pet could be, and how unexpectedly forward he could become while following her commands, even when he was most intimidated by her.

At the moment, his efforts were more teasing than satisfying, though she wondered now whether this awkward little man really could eventually satisfy her through trial and error, all while Murphy stood back in the corner with that pitiful look on his face. Perhaps… but she wasn’t feeling patient enough to wait around for that. “That’s a start,” she said, pushing back Oswald’s head. “I’ll allow you a few points for effort… Now, take off your pants and hand them to Murphy for safekeeping.”

Murphy all but glared at Miss. Mooney, but said nothing.

Oswald swallowed nervously as he stood up. She wouldn't seriously ... What was she intending to do. He knew if he took his pants off he wouldn't be able to hide his erection anymore. He was suddenly regretting not putting on boxers this morning. Something he should have known better to do, though he doubted it would have made a difference.

He didn't meet Murphy's eyes as he took his pants off, and handed them to Murphy.

Murphy’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Oswald’s erection. It hurt to see Oswald aroused by this, but rationally, Murphy knew that didn’t mean anything, knew that it wasn’t Oswald’s fault, it wasn’t as if the man could control it … But the look on Oswald’s face was even more painful to watch. He looked as if he wanted to just sink into the floor and disappear. Murphy tried to make eye contact with him, to give him some non-verbal reassurance that it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault, that Murphy didn’t think of him any differently, but Oswald was too ashamed to even look at him. And Miss. Mooney had already warned Murphy not to say another word… He didn’t dare risk it again. But when he took the pants, he discretely brushed his hand against Oswald’s for a moment, trying to convey some sense of reassurance through touch.

“Good,” Miss. Mooney said, smirking slightly. It seemed even Oswald’s body was obeying her commands. “Now, get on the bed.”

Oswald took a deep steadying breath as he moved over to the bed. "Yes Miss Mooney." He said as he climbed onto the bed, unsure of where or how she wanted him.

Fish pressed a hand against Oswald’s chest and pushed him down onto his back, enjoying the look of wide-eyed nervousness on his thin pale face. She took his cock in her hand, her thumb caressing teasingly over the tip. He was far too easy to toy with. “I think you’ve earned a reward for your effort, don’t you?” she asked lightly, knowing she was just making this all the more awkward for him.

In the corner, Murphy could do nothing but hold Oswald’s pants and watch while Miss. Mooney mercilessly caressed Oswald’s cock in front of him. He wanted so badly to put a stop to this, but what could he do? He’d have begged Miss. Mooney not to do this, to take her hands off of Oswald and leave him alone, but he knew she wouldn’t listen. Speaking up would no doubt just make things worse. He was shaking now with anger at what Miss. Mooney was doing to both of them. He’d worked so hard to build up Oswald’s sense of self worth, and had been so careful to make sex a positive experience for him, not one where he felt used or ashamed. And now Miss. Mooney was undoing all of that.

Oswald closed his eyes as she touched his shaft, unable to control the shiver that ran down his back. He couldn't stop her but he wished that Murphy wasn't here at the very least ... He couldn't look at him. He'd seen the look of anger on his face. Saw his knuckles white from gripping his pants so hard ... Murphy was angry and there was nothing he could do about this ... Short of making Miss. Mooney angry. But at the moment Oswald wasn't sure which he feared more. Murphy's anger, or hers.

Fish looked down in amusement at Oswald’s reaction. He really did seem to be trying to conceal his arousal … It was just a pitiful attempt. She was certain Murphy could have seen that shiver even from where he stood. And he certainly couldn’t hide it from her. Fish considered demanding that Oswald open his eyes again … but thought of something better. Without a word of warning, she straddled his scrawny hips and lowered herself over him, angling Oswald’s cock into her wet entrance until the tip pressed inside of her.

Murphy felt sick as Miss. Mooney straddled Oswald. It was just too upsetting to watch her do this, here, in the same bed where they’d first … Why did she have to do this? Hadn’t she already made her point? No one here was questioning her authority. Couldn’t they just have each other without her walking all over that too?

Oswald groaned in pleasure unable to stop himself as his hands moved up to the head board. She hadn't given him permission to touch her and even if she had he didn't want too. But he couldn't help that she felt so wet and warm around him, it felt good. Once again different from Murphy, but this was far more enjoyable than what she had him doing before.

Oswald's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red with both embarrassment and guilt. He couldn't help the reactions his body was having ... And she'd only taken the tip inside of her. His cock twitched inside of her begging for more while his brain screamed at her to stop.

Miss. Mooney looked down at Oswald appraisingly, staying on top of him with just the tip inside her, not yet taking him in any further.

“Hmm…” she mused. “Something’s missing here … Ah, I know.” She pulled off of him abruptly, sitting back on top of Oswald’s skinny legs, as if he might try to run off somewhere. She gestured carelessly at his attire from the waist up. “Take the rest off,” she said. “Quickly.” Fish wasn’t particularly interested in seeing Oswald’s scrawny, undernourished body naked, but she knew the exposure would make him feel all the more vulnerable. “Murphy,” she snapped her fingers. “Come collect his jacket and tie. I won’t have them sitting rumpled on the floor.”

Murphy’s shaking hands clenched again, but after a moment, he quietly stepped forward to the side of the bed.

Oswald tried to hold back a sigh as he awkwardly struggled out of his clothing with her sitting on his legs. He still couldn't look at Murphy, especially after the reaction he'd just had. She'd barely been on him and he was already aching for more. He felt like he was cheating on Murphy. In a way he supposed he was.

The reality was, he could say no ... Walk away. She wasn't raping him, he was technically consenting ... But he needed to keep this job. He couldn't spend another three months looking for another ... And if Scott found out he was no longer working for Fish ... He didn't dare think of what the man would do to him.

He handed Murphy his clothes without even looking at him, his hands shaking slightly. 

Murphy took Oswald’s clothes wordlessly, anxious that Oswald wouldn’t look at him, so Murphy couldn’t even reassure him with a sympathetic glance. And this close to Miss. Mooney, he didn’t dare try to give him a comforting touch on the hand either. He thought he had some idea what was going on in Oswald’s head right now … No doubt it was exactly what Miss. Mooney had intended. Murphy turned away before Miss. Mooney could see his hate-filled glare, about to head back to his corner.

“One more thing, Murphy,” Miss. Mooney said, gesturing to a dresser not far from the bed. “I need you to get something out of that top drawer for me.”

Murphy glanced over at her uneasily, but nonetheless did as he was told and opened the drawer. He froze. Inside the drawer were several sets of handcuffs. “Is…” his voice shook slightly. “Is this really necessary Miss. Mooney?”

Oswald was already humiliated enough. They hadn’t even talked about kinks before. He had no way of knowing yet whether Oswald would even be comfortable with that normally. But with Miss. Mooney? With no explanation and limited choice in the matter? She could ruin the very idea for him permanently.

“Boy,” Miss. Mooney said with a cold, deadpan stare. “I know you’re not about to make me come over there and get them myself.”

There was nothing Murphy could really do. Even if he refused to assist with this and she fired him, even if she was angry enough to make things worse for Oswald, Miss. Mooney would still ultimately do exactly what she wanted. His stomach twisted into knots as he picked up the handcuffs and nervously handed them over to Miss. Mooney, sparing a glance at Oswald’s face, wondering anxiously how much this might bother him.

Oswald didn't respond as Miss. Mooney took the two handcuffs from Murphy, allowing her to place the cold metal around his right wrist and attaching the other end to the thin bed post. He reacted as indifferently with the left as well, his arms nearly fully stretched to either side of the bed. He kept his eye closed trying to ignore how hard this was making him.

'Think of something else ....' Oswald thought to himself. 'You're not here, you're at home. You're anywhere else ...' But no matter what Oswald thought about he couldn't block out how hard he was, nor the woman above him who clearly had every intention of riding him. Even that thought made his cock twitch, a bit of precum leaking from the tip.

Watching closely, Murphy didn’t see any sign that Oswald was terribly distressed by this, though he was clearly trying hard not to show any reaction, so Murphy couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t help noticing that Oswald’s cock seemed even harder now … not that it necessarily meant he was happy about this. It was just one more thing Oswald couldn’t control.

Fish waved Murphy away impatiently, directing him back to the corner. Murphy hesitated for a moment longer, wishing there were a way to make her lose interest and just leave Oswald alone, hating everything about this, filled with an intolerable mix of concern and hurt and anger and jealousy. But if he made Miss. Mooney angry, she was likely to take it out on Oswald. He couldn’t risk that. There was nothing he could do but step back and let her get this over with.

 

Fish smirked as she moved forward over Oswald, positioning herself over his cock again. He was trying so hard not to react … but that wouldn’t last for long. She took the tip inside herself again, before ever so slowly moving down his cock, gradually taking more of him inside her.

Oswald moaned a little louder than he would have liked, unable to hold it back as he pressed his heels into the mattress. He shifted his hips up against her, his eyes still closed, trying to imagine it being Murphy sinking down onto his shaft. God it felt so good.

"Murphy." Oswald moaned before he realized what he'd said.

Fish slapped Oswald hard across the face, leaving a stinging red mark on his pale skin. “Open your eyes,” she ordered, fury clear on her face. “Look at me.” Before he could respond, she hit him again with a back-handed slap across the other cheek, her nails leaving a scratch across his cheek.

“Stop!” Murphy yelled, stepping forward. “Please, Miss. Mooney, he didn’t mean to-”

“Not another word out of you,” Fish said coldly. “Get back in your corner and keep your mouth shut.”

There was nothing Murphy could say or do that would help Oswald right now; anything he did on his behalf would be a threat to Miss. Mooney’s control … and that would only make things worse. So he stepped back meekly, hating how useless he was to Oswald right now.

Oswald closed his eyes tighter when Miss. Mooney slapped him, the sting in his cheek burning harder than she’d ever hit him before. Then another slap came and he knew his cheek was bleeding from her ring. He could feel the hot blood running down his cheek. Nevertheless, he looked up at her as she commanded. He said nothing, not sure what to say. He knew she would not accept an apology. So he let her do as she pleased … Though now, watching her, and seeing Murphy standing not far behind her watching them …. There was no fooling himself. No imagining …. Just harsh reality.

Fish gripped Oswald by the hair and tilted his head to look at Murphy in the corner. “Is Murphy the one in bed with you? Has he done anything to help you this entire time? In fact,” she said, leaning forward over him. “Have you ever been in trouble here without Murphy being involved?”

Oswald forced himself not to close his eyes again as she pulled his hair back. "N-no ma'am ..." He said after a slight hesitation. But it was usually himself getting into trouble and Murphy getting himself involved.

Murphy winced. He couldn’t really argue with that. He worried that he’d made things worse for Oswald several times already, and even if that wasn’t true, he’d never managed to make the situation any better. And right now, he was more useless to Oswald than ever; he’d just been reduced to another tool that Miss. Mooney used to humiliate Oswald.

“Now,” Fish said softly, pulling sharply at his hair again to turn his head back to look at her. “Say my name.”

Oswald wanted to look away from her but he knew better. "M-Mooney ..." He said his stutter starting up slightly.

“Again,” Fish said, taking his cock a little further inside her. “More clearly this time.”

"M-m-mooney." He said his stutter getting slightly worse with nerves.

“Louder,” Fish commanded, working her way further down his cock at an agonizingly slow pace.

Oswald didn't say it again. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about this. This was so humiliating.

Fish pulled roughly at Oswald’s hair. “What did I just tell you to do?” she said sternly.

Murphy could do nothing but watch, silently livid, all the more furious at Fish for what she was doing to Oswald. The way she humiliated and belittled him… he couldn’t stand watching it.

"Mooney." Oswald said, forcing himself not to stutter as he defiantly looked up at her, not because she demanded him to, but because he was starting to become angry with the situation. Angry at himself for using her name to get a room, angry her for doing this ... And unexplainably angry at Murphy for just standing there ...

“There’s a good little Penguin,” Fish smirked down at him, patting his cheek condescendingly. Then she suddenly sank down on Oswald’s cock, taking it all the way inside her, before riding up and down at a gradually increasing rate.

Oswald opened his mouth in a silent moan as she sank all the way down onto him and started to ride his cock. It felt amazing and Oswald once again found himself thrusting up against her, his hands gripping the short chain of the hand cuffs. After the long build up, and now this, he knew he wouldn't last long. He could already feel his orgasm slowly building.

"Miss. Mooney ... Stop ..." He begged.

In response, Fish just kept riding up and down his cock. “You don’t get to quit just yet,” she said warningly. Though she knew he had to be close, that there was no way he could hold back for much longer. But she still wanted the opportunity to teach him a lesson one more time before she sent him back to work.

"Miss. Mooney ... No ... I ... I'm going .... Stop .... Please." He begged as she rode him harder. It felt too good, he wouldn't last ....

“Miss. Mooney, please,” Murphy said urgently. He didn’t know how Miss. Mooney would react if Oswald came inside her, but he could guess she wouldn’t be at all pleased with him.

Fish ignored both of their pleas and rode Oswald harder.

Oswald's mouth opened again in a silent moan as he tensed, he tried to hold it back but he couldn't. He came hard inside Miss. Mooney, his hands clutching the handcuffs as his entire body was wracked with pleasure. Once he finally calmed, fear gripped him and he was afraid to look up at Miss. Mooney.

Fish looked down at Oswald with a hard, cold stare. “Oswald,” she said lightly, though danger lurked beneath her tone. “Did I tell you that you could come yet? For that matter, did I ever say you could come inside me?” Of course, she knew that, cuffed to the bed with her on top of him, Oswald wouldn’t have been able to pull away no matter how hard he tried. And she’d taken precautions, so it wasn’t as if it would cause her any practical problems. But there was a principle to uphold. Oswald had forgotten his place lately. She would take the opportunity to remind him.

"N-n-no Miss. Mooney ... I-I-I-I'm sorry I-I-I I couldn't stop .... I-" He closed his eyes as he felt cum dripping down his softening cock. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He'd surely be punished for it.

“You what?” Fish pulled off of Oswald abruptly, his cum dripping from her. She held up Oswald’s softening cock between her thumb and forefinger, a disgusted look on her face. “And what am I supposed to do with this useless thing, hmm?” she said, before letting it fall limply. She hit him with a hard, backhanded slap across the face, her ring cutting into his skin again. “Do you think I want to hear your excuses?” She hit him a second time, and a third.

“Stop,” Murphy said before he could think better of it, his fists clenched, his voice shaking with anger. “You know damn well he couldn’t help it. You’ve already made your point. Please, just … Stop.”

Fish sent a cold, dangerous glance his way. “You’re no longer needed in here,” she said calmly. “Put Oswald’s clothes down on that chair, and go back to the bar.” Before Murphy could open his mouth to protest, she added: “If you can’t at least do that without arguing, I’m not sure what I’m paying you for.”

For a moment, Murphy just stared back at Miss. Mooney and Oswald, eyes wide and frightened with worry. He didn’t want to leave Oswald alone with her, especially when she was this furious. There was no telling what she would do… But he wouldn’t be able to stop her, even if he stayed. And if he got himself fired, Oswald wouldn’t have anyone here looking out for him.

“Yes, Miss. Mooney,” he said in barely more than a whisper, though the anger in his eyes was unmistakable. He laid Oswald’s clothes over the chair as she’d ordered, and left, wondering if Oswald would be able to forgive him for abandoning him like this.

Oswald shivered slightly, in both fear and nerves at what Miss. Mooney planned on doing with him. If she sent Murphy away it couldn't be good.

Fish got up from the bed, unlocked first one cuff, then walked around and unlocked the other. “Turn over, face-down on the bed,” she ordered, tapping her foot on the floor, waiting for him to obey.

Oswald closed his eyes as he rolled over onto his stomach, rubbing his wrists that had a red circle around them from where the cuff cut into his wrists.

Fish barely allowed him a moment’s reprieve to rub at his aching wrists before putting the handcuffs back on him in his new position, not bothering with any explanation as she strode over to the dresser and opened a lower drawer and returned with a riding crop.

Oswald couldn't see what she was doing as as he heard her shuffling around the room. He heard her come back toward the bed and swallowed nervously.

"Please Miss. Mooney ... I'm sorry." He begged.

“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Fish said, rapidly swinging the riding crop down on Oswald’s pale, scrawny ass.

Oswald squeaked when the riding crop came down on his ass, leaving a long red streak on his pale skin.

"Miss. Mooney!" He squeaked as his hands gripped the chain of the handcuffs again.

“At least you said the right name,” Fish smirked. “We’re making progress already.” She walked around to the side of the bed, and lifted Oswald’s chin with the riding crop, tilting his head to face her. “Here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to count aloud how many times I hit you, and thank me for each one. When I think you’ve had enough, I’ll ask you what you’ve learned from all of this. Once I’m satisfied with your answer, you get to go back to work.” She looked down at him, almost pitying just how pathetic he looked. “Does that sound fair to you?”

Oswald couldn't believe he could feel his cock hardening against the mattress. He couldn't possibly like this .... This was wrong! This wasn't sexual, it was a punishment.

He nodded. "Y-yes Miss. Mooney." He said quietly.

Fish abruptly pulled the riding crop away from Oswald’s chin, walked down to the end of the bed, her designer heels clicking against the floor, and struck him with the riding crop again.

Oswald whimpered as the ride crop connected with soft flesh.

"O-one ..." He said shifting his hips against the mattress making it look as if he were flinching from from the hit.

Fish shook her head. “You forgot to thank me,” she said. “Start the count over.” She lashed out with the riding crop again.

Oswald moaned shifting his hips again. "One ... T-Thank you Miss Mooney." He was rock hard again, luckily though it was hidden from her view between him and the mattress.

Fish gave him a quizzical look; that moan sounded more than slightly questionable. It could just be out of pain … but nonetheless, she wondered. She brought the riding crop down hard again, watching him closely.

Oswald moaned again. "Two ... Thank you." He said his voice sounding more like a moan, his hips shifting still. Why did this feel so good? It hurt and it stung but the burning sensation sent a wave of pleasure through him.

Fish brought the crop down with more force than before. “If I didn’t know any better,” she said with an amused smile. “I’d think you were enjoying this.”

"P-Please Miss. Mooney." He begged not counting that one hoping she'd have to start again. "Please."

Fish actually laughed at that. “You really are enjoying it, aren’t you?” she said, trailing the riding crop lightly down his back, teasing rather than actually striking with it again. “It’s almost a shame that I sent Murphy away … What would he think if he saw this, I wonder?”

"Please don't tell him!" Oswald said shocked. "I ... Please .... I don't want him to think ..." But Murphy already thought that. That Oswald was a little slut begging for anyone's attention. Maybe it was true. If he was enjoying this so much.

Fish brought the riding crop down sharply on Oswald’s ass again. “Hmm…” Fish frowned as if considering the matter. “I suppose I don’t have to tell him, as long as you’re good and don’t step out of line again.” Better to let Murphy think that she’d done something terrible to him up here, and that he’d made things worse for getting involved. He’d be less likely to encourage Oswald to forget his place again. And her timid little pet would no longer have such lapses in obedience. “I wonder, though … have you learned anything from this at all?”

"Y-Yes Miss. Mooney." He said struggling a moment. "Just ... Please." He said managing to get up onto his knees, a difficult position since he was still handcuffed to the bed but he didn't want her to stop.

Fish shook her head, smirking slightly in amusement at his pathetic request. “Well, now that you like it, perhaps I ought to change the rules,” she said, her riding crop lightly tapping at Oswald’s ass as she thought. “So, if you don’t want me to stop, tell me … What have you learned from all of this?”

Oswald groaned in frustration, tugging at the handcuff of his right wrist wanting so badly to touch his shaft. "Please ... I ...." What did he learn? What was he being punished for? "T .... To remember my place."

“That’s right,” Fish said approvingly, before bring the riding crop down hard on his ass three times in rapid succession. “Though I don’t think you’ve ever had trouble grasping the concept … so why do you seem to keep having trouble with that, I wonder?”

He tugged on the handcuff again, trying to work his hand out of the metal ring. He knew she'd punish him for it if he got it out but he wanted to touch himself so badly. And by the feel of it, it wasn't coming out anytime soon. His hands were too big and his wrists too thin.

"I ... I'm sorry." He begged, a bead of precum dripping down onto the sheet.

Fish saw what he was trying to do, and swatted sharply at the back of Oswald’s hand with the riding crop, though not enough to seriously hurt him. He was far too entertaining. “Case in point,” she said, then lashed out at his ass a few more times, adding to the small collection of red marks. Even if he liked it now, she knew he’d be sore from it later. “You’ll be uncuffed when I feel like it, and not before. Do you understand?”

"Yes Ma'am." He whimpered as he stopped tugging. His ass was raw and he knew he'd feel it for days after this .... He might even have trouble sitting for awhile .... But the burning sensation and the thought of her doing this felt so good. His thoughts strayed back to Murphy again and he couldn't help feel guilty again. Murphy would have every right to think him a slut ... Perhaps he was ...

Fish kept hitting him relentlessly with the riding crop, wondering how long Oswald would continue enjoying this before the pain would start to outweigh the arousal it was causing, wondering how much more frustration he’d be able to take. “Why do you keep stepping out of line, forgetting your place, hmm? Have you just wanted to be punished all this time?”

"No ... No I .... I didn't think when I did it ..." Oswald winced as it was really starting to hurt. He lowered his hips back down so he laid against the bed and shifted his hips, rubbing his cock against the bed.

“Didn’t think?” Fish repeated, pausing to brush the riding crop lightly down his leg. “And how do I know that won’t keep happening again?”

"I'm sorry." He said feeling his orgasm building as he kept rubbing up against the soft mattress.

“Are you really?” Fish smirked, landing another hit with the riding crop.

Oswald moaned as she hit him again, he was about to cum again, he just wished his hand was free. His face turned red at how embarrassing this was. He was handcuffed to Miss. Mooney’s bed, being spanked with a riding crop while he humped the bed begging her for more ... This couldn’t get more embarrassing. But he was so close.

“Answer me, Penguin,” Fish said, her voice stern. “Are you really sorry, or are you just lying to humour me?”

"No ... I ... I'm sorry." He said moaning as he stiffened, cumming between himself and the mattress. He panted as he pulsed against the sheet a few moments before he went still, resting his head against the pillow beneath him.

Fish gave him one last forceful hit with the riding crop. “And I suppose,” she said, a mildly amused look on her face. “That’s one more thing you don’t want Murphy to hear about, hmm?”

"I ..." He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't want to keep secrets from Murphy, if he was even still talking to him at all, but he didn't want him to find out from her. "No ...."

“As long as you remember your place,” Fish said, putting away the riding crop and striding over to the head of the bed to unlock the handcuffs. “It can be our little secret.”

Oswald sat up, rubbing his wrists which had started bleeding slightly. He nodded feeling much like a dog that was taught a new trick, and if he obeyed he wouldn't be punished.

Fish patted him on the head. Overall, he really was a good little pet. She tossed him the handcuffs. “Put those away and get dressed,” she said, heading for the door. “I expect you downstairs and back on duty shortly.”

"Yes ma'am." He said putting the two sets of handcuffs in the drawer before getting dressed after she left.

When he'd righted his clothing and his hair to the best of his ability he walked gingerly down the stairs and back into the club which now had customers milling about. He couldn't meet Murphy's gaze as he got to work, careful not to move too quickly, and trying to hide the pain that was no longer as pleasurable as it had been when it was happening.

Murphy had been anxiously glancing back toward the stairs ever since he’d gone back to the bar, worrying what Oswald might be enduring up there. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when he saw him finally come back down. But he couldn’t catch Oswald’s eye; he still seemed too ashamed to look back at him. And, just from watching him from a distance while they both went about their duties, Murphy couldn’t tell what had happened. As far as he could see, Oswald didn’t look badly hurt. But he was moving more slowly than usual, so he was most likely in some degree of pain.

After agreeing to handle some of the more difficult customers for him, Murphy was able to get Ricardo to switch break times with him again, so that he wouldn’t have to wait until closing to talk to Oswald.

Oswald glared at Lazlo who seemed to be amused by Oswald's pain, knowing he'd been brought upstairs to be punished. It wasn't that hard to figure out.

"Karma’s a bitch isn't it?" Lazlo said handing his tray to Oswald. Oswald's eyes narrowed as he practically ripped the tray out of Lazlo's hand and headed behind the bar to grab a bottle of champagne.

Murphy met Oswald at the bar, handing him a chilled bottle of champagne, his hand lingering briefly over Oswald’s, though not long enough for anyone to notice. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching Oswald’s for some indication of how he was doing.

Oswald took the bottle from Murphy and popped the champagne bottle open. "I'm fine." He hissed as he poured a glass and placed it on the tray. He put the bottle on the tray and carried it over to Miss. Mooney's table.

Murphy watched, concerned, as Oswald walked stiffly over to Miss. Mooney. He still wasn’t entirely sure what she had done to him, but as the evening progressed, he noticed that Oswald moved carefully, as if something was hurting him, and never once sat down.

Three hours later Oswald finally headed towards the back door to the back alley. He needed a smoke. Already since coming down he'd had three men and two women grab his ass while he was walking past. The first time he didn't think anything of it, though he had been shocked. The second time confused him, by the third he was fully convinced that Mooney had put them up to it.

There were still four hours left on his shift and he was in desperate need of a cigarette.

Murphy quickly followed Oswald out the back door, anger burning behind his eyes. If he saw one more person grope Oswald, he was going to punch someone. And he hadn’t been oblivious to the way Oswald had flinched, either. Miss. Mooney had hurt him, he was sure of it. Though he still didn’t know how much, or how badly she’d humiliated him. He leaned against the brick wall, and waited to speak while Oswald lit a cigarette. He’d needed so badly to talk to him, and now he didn’t know what to say.

Oswald stood against the opposite wall, careful not to touch his back end to it as it was still extremely sore and feeling worse as his shift progressed. He couldn't believe he enjoyed it, but looking back he couldn't imagine it happening any other way. He'd let her do it again, and that thought alone kept him from looking up at Murphy as he slowly puffed on his cigarette.

Murphy took a deep, calming breath, taking in the familiar scent of secondhand smoke. “What did she do to you?” he asked quietly.

Oswald flicked ashes onto the ground. "Nothing." He lied simply. "Look Murphy ...." He said still unable to look up at him. "I ....." He paused not sure how to continue.

Murphy didn’t push the matter; the last thing Oswald needed right now was an interrogation. “What is it?” he asked softly.

Oswald took another long drag of his cigarette and held it loosely in his hand. "I .... I think you should find someone else ..." He said quietly. So quietly he wasn't even sure if Murphy would have heard him.

Murphy froze, Oswald’s words hitting him with an almost physical shock. “What … What do you mean? Is she making you do this?"

"No ... She couldn't care less who either of us is with ..." He said finishing off his cigarette and tossing the butt into a nearby puddle. "But you deserve someone better than me ..."

“Oswald, no … I … I don’t want anyone else,” Murphy said, clearing the distance between them and gently laying a hand on Oswald’s shoulder, even though Oswald still wouldn’t even look at him. “None of this was your fault,” he said firmly. “You … you know that, don’t you?”

"Not at first no ...." He said swatting Murphy's hand away from him. "When you left she .... She spanked me with a riding crop ... Hard .... She stopped but ..." Oswald's entire face turned red with embarrassment and shame. "I begged her not to ... You deserve better than a fucked up whore, Murphy." He said, still not looking at him.

“Stop saying things like that about yourself,” Murphy said, upset, still trying to process what Oswald had just told him.

So Fish had taken a riding crop to him … and from how gingerly he’d been moving all evening, she’d taken it too far. Everything about this was wrong. But Oswald had begged her not to stop? That … that hurt to hear. It was hard to even wrap his head around. But given the circumstances, Oswald couldn’t reasonably claim this much of the blame.

“Okay …” Murphy said slowly. He absently ran a hand through his hair, thinking it through. “So she spanked you, you liked it, and you asked her not to stop …” He shook his head. “Oswald, you didn’t want to be in this situation in the first place, remember? She didn’t really give you much choice in the matter. I don’t like this,” he said more quietly now, suddenly having to blink back tears. He’d hated watching Miss. Mooney touch him, thinking about what had happened afterward, knowing she’d hurt Oswald, and knowing that she’d aroused him… He hated all of it. “But I still don’t think it’s your fault.”

"How can you be so calm about this?!" Oswald asked turning up to him. "Everything I do you just take in stride! Are you so oblivious to what I do, or are you just ignoring it as my mother does?!" He asked his voice an angry hiss. "I've killed people Murphy, I've had sex with someone who wasn't you, and I liked it ..." He backed away from him slightly. "And I can't promise if she asked I wouldn't do it willingly. I ... I enjoyed it Murphy. A lot." He said. That last part wasn't true .... He wouldn't go to Mooney willingly, unless she forced him to or ordered him to ... But Murphy deserved someone better than him. If that meant he had to hurt him, to push him away ... Then so be it.

“You make it sound like I’m happy about this!” Murphy said, his voice shaking with hurt and anger. “I’m not under any delusions about you, you know that! But …” he shook his head. “I don’t believe that last part. I don’t believe you’d go back to her just for the hell of it. Because you care too much about hurting me,” he said, his eyes never wavering from Oswald’s. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be telling me this. You wouldn’t be telling me to go find someone else; that doesn’t benefit you at all. If you didn’t care, you’d try to keep me in the dark about this as long as you possibly could. And you damn well wouldn’t have told me about the people you’ve killed. You didn’t have to risk telling me any of that. I don’t believe you would go to all that trouble just to throw it away.”

"And what would you have me do Murphy? I'm not a good man! We fight more often than not ... I'm not worth it .... You can find better." He said turning away from him and wrapping his arms around himself. His last sentence came out more like a choke than anything else, as if the fight in him had just fizzled out.

“Oswald …” Murphy said quietly. He hesitated a moment, and then stepped forward and put his arms around Oswald, holding him close, half expecting Oswald to push him away again. “Were you listening to anything I just said? You told me things that anyone else would have kept buried, just because you thought I deserved to know. Almost no one would do that … and you expect me to go find someone else?” And the one major fight they’d had was because Murphy hadn’t had the courage to do the same. Other than that, hadn’t they been happy together? “I … like being with you. You’re absolutely worth it to me.”

Oswald turned towards Murphy, his face red and streaked with tears as he hugged him. "No I'm not." He said quietly.

Murphy sighed. “Can you at least trust that I know what’s worth it to me and what isn’t?” There was more that he wanted to say, but he still didn’t think Oswald was ready to hear those words yet. And right now, it would probably just overwhelm him. So Murphy simply repeated: “You’re worth it,” and leaned in to kiss him gently.

Oswald didn’t kiss him back. He backed up slightly and glanced down at his watch, using his free hand to rub the tears away from his face, his eyes swollen slightly. “Break’s over … We should go back in before Miss. Mooney gets mad.” He said ignoring what Murphy had said.

Murphy nodded. “Right,” he said quietly, trying not to feel hurt that Oswald didn’t kiss him back. Oswald was dealing with a lot right now … guilt, embarrassment, probably confusion ... He wasn’t going to just instantly work through this. Reluctantly, Murphy headed back inside.

Oswald stayed outside for a few moments, waiting until his breathing was under control before heading back inside as well.

Miss. Mooney looked up from her table as Oswald walked back in. Even from here, it was pathetically obvious that he’d been crying. His face was a mess. Really, it wasn’t as if this was the worst thing that had happened to him here … She supposed it could be the result of relationship drama, but at the moment she didn’t particularly care. Whatever the reasons, at the moment, Penguin was simply unpresentable. She shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. “Go home, Oswald,” she said. “Come back when you’ve pulled yourself together.”

"I'm fine Miss. Mooney. I .... I apologize." He said picking up the bottle of champagne and refilling her glass, grateful that his hands were dry … Well, as dry as they usually were, his hands were usually a bit sweaty. But at least they weren't covered in tears.

Miss. Mooney waved her hand to shoo him away. “I said go home,” she repeated. “Presentation is important. I won’t be seen with a weepy, puffy-eyed umbrella boy. Go. I expect you to be presentable again by tomorrow.”

Oswald looked like he wanted to argue, with how often she sent him home (usually for results of her own actions) he was losing a good portion of his pay cheques. But he knew better than to argue.

"Yes, ma'am." He said putting the bottle back down and gingerly walking past the bar, Lazlo snickering as he winced in pain from moving a bit too quickly.

"Too bad you didn't have my back earlier Penguin." He said making Oswald sneer at him. "I would have-"

"You wouldn't have done anything Lazlo, don't waste your breath." He said passing Murphy as he head towards the door.

“Wait,” Murphy said quietly, so that only Oswald could hear. He caught up to him in a couple of quick strides. “Go to my place,” he said, pressing a key into Oswald’s hand. He’d only had his own apartment for a couple of days now, but he’d planned on giving Oswald a key soon anyway, and had had a second one made almost immediately. “It’s closer.” That, and given how much pain Oswald still seemed to be in, someone should really take a look and tend to whatever damage Miss. Mooney had done.

Oswald stared at the key for a moment before he took it. He didn't want to go to Murphy's but it was a sight less embarrassing than explaining this to his mother.

"Okay." He said quietly but didn't thank him. He hated this.

Murphy nodded, visibly relieved that Oswald had at least accepted the offer. He’d half expected him to be stubborn and insist that he didn’t need any help. He headed back to the bar to work the rest of his shift. “Table three looks pretty impatient Lazlo,” he said pointedly as he walked past him.


End file.
